Dance On Our Graves
by pleasant-hell
Summary: At first the only person you see is a little girl standing there, her long blonde hair in braided pigtails. Then you finally see who is standing with her. Brittany nervously shifts her weight from one foot to the other, "Uh, hi Santana."
1. Chapter 1

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to see my friend."

"Is your friend nice?"

"She's super nice," her voice sounded nervous even to her.

"Is she going to help us move?"

"That's what we're going to see."

"If she's super nice she'll want to help us move right?"

"Um yeah," deep breath, "If she's not busy." She looked from the paper in her hand to the door in front of her. This was it.

* * *

><p>Bang. Bang. Bang.<p>

It feels like someone cut off the top of your head and is knocking on your brain with an ice pick. You groan and pull your blanket over your head, hoping that it'll go away.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

You wonder who was at the door at…this time where the sun is up in the morning. All of your friends are still asleep. You suddenly wonder if you paid the rent because if you were even an hour late, the landlord was all over you ass. You grabbed a shirt and pull it over your head. Pants are too much work at the moment so you just forget about them, of course tripping over the ones you took off before getting into bed

You leave the chain on the door when you open it because you're still in fucking New York City and there are creepers everywhere. You push your hair out of your face to see what was going on. At first the only person you see is a little girl standing there, her long blonde hair in braided pigtails, looking up at you. You quickly close the door wondering if this kid is alone or lost or something. You take the chain off and open the door all the way. You finally see who is standing with the little girl and you can't hear anything, but a whirling in your ears.

Brittany nervously shifts her weight from one foot to the other, the little girl's hand in her own, "Um, hi Santana."

You blink. Then you blink again. What the…you can't even…why is she…and the kid…Brittany?

The little girl looks up at Brittany and then to you. She lets out a bright smile, "Hi."

"What's going on?" your eyes dart from Brittany to the little girl and back up to Brittany. You can't even comprehend what's happening. If Brittany was alone maybe you could understand what was happening. Even if there was a random little girl at your door it may make more sense.

Brittany's eyes dropped to the ground. She looks nervous. She bites her lip before she asks you, "Can we talk?"

Still completely bewildered, you open the door wider to let them in. What else could you do? When you close the door, you lead the way into the small efficiency. Your bed is a mess in the corner farthest from the door and the couch is covered in clothes. The TV is sitting on one end of a coffee table, you have no idea why. On the other end of the coffee table is an open bottle of 360 Vodka, a pack of cigarettes with a lighter and a baggie with.. oh shit. You quickly grab the baggie and shove it into your pocket, hoping that Brittany or the kid didn't see it.

Brittany opens her purse and pulls out a coloring book with a handful of crayons. She sets it on the small bar that separates your kitchenette from the rest of the room. The little girl automatically sits on the barstool and starts to color, not noticing the tension throughout the room. You can feel it crawling all the way through you.

You need to do something to keep from having to find something to say because it's obvious Brittany is having trouble finding words. You close the bottle of vodka and stick it in the freezer, trying to subtly place the little indiscretion from your pocket into the freezer. Then you nervously run your fingers through your hair trying to figure out what was going on. Brittany looks around at the messy apartment and you feel self-conscious about it. It's a shit apartment and you haven't spent a while lot of money on furniture or anything remotely decorative.

After a moment of trying to regroup next to the refrigerator, you walk to the couch and fall back on it. You look up at Brittany, "How did you find me?"

"Your mom," the blonde sits down next to you, "I asked her not to tell you though."

"Why not?" you look around before picking up a water bottle off of the floor, "You like surprise attacks?" That's how this is starting to feel. You feel blitzkrieged.

Brittany folds her hands, "I didn't know if we were actually going to come."

She looks scared and you feel your protective instinct jumpstart. You bite your lip and look away, trying to make it stop. You look over at the little girl that is coloring. She looks a little old to be Brittany's, but you're not sure. It's not like you spend a whole lot of time with kids. Brittany looks exactly like she did the last time you saw her but that doesn't mean she didn't have a kid and get her body back. "How old is she?"

"Five," Brittany stats, glancing back at the little girl.

"If she's five then..." You squint from Brittany to the girl. If your memory serves you right, you and Brittany were actually dating five years ago. "You'd have had to-"

"I didn't have her," Brittany clarifies. Her eyes meet yours fully for the first time. You can see that she knows what you really asked. No she didn't cheat on you and somehow miraculously hid it from you before your breakup.

So how did she get this kid? "So, you…stole her?"

Brittany smiles, "No. I was…dating this guy and he was her dad," she pauses looking nervously at you. With good reason though because every time you even think of someone touching Brittany like you used to…you get nauseas and angry. Even though you're not really allowed to anymore. Especially after what happened.

She waits for you to nod, affirming that she has your attention again. She continues, less sure than before, "Her mom left her with Richie and never came back and one night Richie just left. He left a note that said we were better off without him. We could have the house and everything but I couldn't afford the mortgage by myself working at the studio in Lima so I sold the house and took a job here. But my job doesn't start for another week. We can't afford a hotel or anything until I start working. I don't have the money from the house yet either."

You bite your lip and roll the water bottle in your hand. "So you need somewhere to stay?"

She nods. She's starting to look terrified. Your hand twitches, wanting to comfort her, but you can't. It's not your job anymore.

You look around and shrug. You really just sleep in this shithole. You're out at night and if you can help it most of the day. You guess they can have the bed and you'll sleep on the couch. It's not like you're ever home at night anyway, "Are you sure you don't know anyone else that lives somewhere nicer?"

She gives you a sweet, grateful smile. But when she looks back at you, you can see it in her eyes. There's more. You can't handle this without some help. Drinking this early in the...whatever time it was, is out of the question so you grab a cigarette and walk to the window. After heaving it open, you sit sideways on the sill and prop your foot up. After lighting up and taking a drag, you look back at Brittany whose eyes are trained on you. You blow the smoke out the window and nod to her, giving her the go ahead.

She moves to your bed, which is closer to the window. You rest your head on the wall behind you. Tears unexpectedly well up in Brittany's eyes. She blinks them back and glances at the girl "We need... I-I don't know what I'm doing. I'm scared and you're the only person I've ever... I need help."

You feel your eyes get wide. You were not expecting that. Shit at this point you can barely help yourself, much less Brittany and a kid. "Britt I-"

"I just need a friend," Brittany sniffles and shakes her head, "It's hard and she needs someone smarter than me ask questions to." Brittany rubs her arm and looks at you, "I just... You're the first person- the only person I thought of."

"I'm- I'm a different person," you sigh, "Not the kind of person that should be around kids...or other people." This is so out of the blue. You have no idea what to make of it. You're still tired and you don't remember the last time you actually ate.

"Please just be my friend. At least for a week. She's a good kid and she's smart," Brittany pleads. You can see the fear and pleading in the blue eyes. She's clenching her jaw and you know she's trying not to cry. "She's like you were when we were little."

You take another drag of your cigarette, feeling the slight burn travel down your throat. You look outside and down at the alley below. Can you really be Brittany's friend? After everything, can you be her friend? You don't know how Brittany got into this situation, but…but you can't let her be alone. Especially in this city. Especially with a kid. "Then I guess we're in trouble."  
>She lets out a relieved smile, "Thank you so much ."<p>

You put your cigarette out on the windowsill and drop it into the dumpster below. You stand and close the window. The little girl stands up and walks over to Brittany. She's contently swaying next to the bed, "I'm hungry."

Brittany brushes the bangs out of the child's face.

"I don't have like... Food or anything," you say. The closest semblance you have to food is a box of takeout that's been there for the month.

"We'll go get something okay?" Brittany smiles at her. She stands up and looks at you, "Are you hungry?"

You think about it for a moment. You're actually really hungry and you need to show them around and give Brittany a crash course in living in New York. "Sure."

After Brittany brings up a few bags from her car and you and the kid have a painfully awkward staring contest, you take them to your favorite café down the street. The short order cook behind the counter smiles at you when you walk in, "You're early."

You just nod and instead of sitting at the counter, you slide into a booth. The little girl and Brittany sit on the other side. When Brittany rubs the little girl's back you can't help, but smile. When she looks up at you, she sees your smile and smiles back. "So what have you been up to?"

You exhale and wish that you had a cigarette. You start to twirl your phone on the table. This is just so much to handle right now. You're still having a hard time believing that Brittany is sitting across from you. You shrug, "Work." You hope she'll just leave it at that. You don't really want her knowing what you do for a living. Not yet anyway.

The look on her face is a soft contentment that comes with knowing you and your cryptic answers for years. She accepts your answer and turns to the little girl, "What do you want to eat?"

The girl looks at you suspiciously and then tells Brittany, "Eggs."

Brittany nods and kisses the top of her head, "Okay." You are touched by the small action and smile a little because of it. They're cute together.

"What about you? You taught dance in Lima?"

She nods. "For a couple years. I don't know what happened. I think Mike had something to do with it, but a guy that managed a dance studio and company here went to the studio and watched the class and asked me to join."

"So you're going to dance and teach?" you ask.

She nods, "But mostly dance. I'll have one class on Tuesdays and Thursdays with high school kids."

You're impressed. Then your eyes flicker to the little girl leaning on Brittany. If they'll be living with you for a week, you feel like you need to at least know her name. "What's your name?"

"Emily," she smiles, "You're Santana."

You nod. You wonder how much Brittany actually told her about you. Does this kid know the extent of your relationship? _Former_ relationship?

You scratch your head and nod. After a sip of your water, your eyes find Brittany again. "Do you have any plans for the next week?"

Brittany shakes her head, "We were just going to look around. Go see some things."

That makes sense. "Statue of Liberty? The Met? Yankee Stadium?"

Your ex nods with a smile on her face, "Everything we can fit into a week."

"Awesome," you nod. "Where are you going today?"

Brittany looks to Emily who smiles, "The one with all the lights and the signs."

"Times Square," Brittany states, "But we have to go after it gets dark."

You don't like Brittany and a kid out at Times Square at night. Sure it looks a lot cooler at night, but bad things happen at night. Of course this being New York bad things happen during the day too, but at night it's harder to see them coming. You probably need to get home and get some sleep before your shift starts tonight, but you really can't let them wander around alone.

Fuck it. You'll just have to have a little pick me up before you go in. If something happens to Brittany or that kid, you'll hate yourself more than you do right now.

"How about we hit Central Park first?" you offer.

Brittany look surprised. "We?"

You nod, "We have to talk about living here." You're trying to remain serious and not look at her for too long. She definitely looks different that you remember. She looks exhausted, but managed to keep her optimism. Maybe she's a little wiser. Maybe she's becoming the independent woman that you always felt you were stifling. But in her eyes. Deep, deep in her eyes you know she's the same girl you've loved your whole life and looking at her for too long is dangerous.

"Careful, these plates are hot."

After a hearty breakfast that Brittany pays for, you all head to the park. You keep your hands in your pockets so they don't accidentally brush Brittany's. She's your roommate for a few days and that's it. When she's gone, she's gone and that's it. No more Brittany. No more kid. The end.

"I wanted to thank you again," Brittany says, as Emily looks around wide eyed at the ducks and trees.

You shrug, "No problem. I'm not even home at night so it's not a big deal."

"You're at work?" she asks.

You watch the pavement rush by your feet and nod.

She's quiet so you finally look up at her. Her eyes are still trained on you. Watching you, studying you. It's a little intimidating. Especially because she knows you so well. After a moment, she licks her lips and looks away, "Have you been here the whole time?"

There's more to that question that is unspoken, but luckily you two are fluent in non-words. "Yeah. Right after… the day after. I moved here."

She nods accepting that the day after your breakup you hightailed it out of Ohio. She looks at you with the silent question of why and you look away with the answer of I don't want to talk about it.

It's scary how easily you both fall back into the routine of being around each other. When she moves, your body knows how to move to accommodate her. Words are just a formality at this point. You're pretty convinced that you two could have a complete conversation without words. You don't want to get used to this, but your body has already found a contentment in being around her again. It's bad. It sucks and you know in the end it's going to hurt like hell.

After hours of playing around at the park, eating pizza, and a walk through of Times Square in the twilight, the kid falls asleep as Brittany carries her up the stairs to your apartment. You walk behind them, making sure that Brittany doesn't fall backwards because no matter how much you wished that you'd laid your feeling to rest in a watertight grave twelve feet under, it's apparent that they've returned from the dead.

She lays Emily on your bed after you pushed all of the clothes off of it into a pile on the floor. Brittany covers the little girl in one of the two blankets in the apartment. When Brittany kisses her head you feel your throat constrict. It's all the feelings you're trying to hold back. When Brittany does things like that, incredibly sweet things you just…

You grab your gym bag out from under the bed where you usually kick it after work. You walk to the closet and throw a track jacket into it along with some pants. You can't remember if it's supposed to be cold tonight. Then you glance behind you at Brittany who is straightening out the second blanket to put on top of Emily. Quickly you open the freezer and grab the baggy, throwing it into your bag.

"Are you going to work?" Brittany asks.

Her voice is so close to you that you jump and when you turn around she's leaning on the counter behind you. You smooth out your hair, "Yeah."

"Well thanks again for today and for letting us stay," she offers you a tentative smile and her eyes flicker to your bag, revealing that she just saw what you did.

You try to shake it off, "No problem. I'll be back in a few hours."

She nods. Her eyes are questioning, but her mouth is silent. You decide to ignore her eyes and grab your keys. As you walk out the door, you stop. Then you walk back inside and grab a pen out of the drawer than look around.

"What are you looking for?" Brittany asks, opening one of the bags she brought up from her car.

"Paper," you tell her, "I'm going to write my number down in case you think of anything you need."

She looks around for a few seconds before saying, "Here." When you look up, her hand is extended toward you.

You hesitate. You haven't touched her for a reason. You're treading on a minefield here and touching her is like breaking out a jump rope and skipping in zigzag patterns all over the place. But you do it anyway, because you need to leave and you need her to have your number.

You take her hand in your right hand and hold it flat so you can write on her palm. You talk to you don't focus on how warm or soft her hand is. "Lock both of the deadbolts okay? And if some fat ass guy comes knocking asking where his rent is, ignore him. He'll leave after a few minutes."  
>She nods, "Thanks San."<p>

You release her hand after you've written your number on it. "There are like four channels on the TV and my laptop's on the shelf in the closet. There's pretty much nothing here, but if you find something you're welcome to it."

She gives you a warm smile and quickly pulls you into a hug. You can't escape it. You can just try to keep your hands in innocent places on her back while she squeezes you. When she let's go you awkwardly smile before bolting.

As you walk toward the train you shake your head. How the fuck do you get yourself into these things?


	2. Chapter 2

The feeling that you have while walking to the club is unfamiliar. Usually, you feel…well you feel nothing. You don't typically care what goes on around you. You're pretty much in your own personal shit storm for the most part.

Tonight though…you feel something. Some kind of purpose. You're not going out with the girls after work tonight because you have things to do. You're not just worried about yourself anymore. You're thinking about buying a couple new blankets because the insulation in your apartment sucks and you don't want Brittany or Emily to get cold. You're thinking about going to the grocery store for the first time in months because they need to eat. You know it's not permanent, but right now it's pleasant feelings. Having purpose instead of just existing.

You pause outside the door of the club and pull out your baggy. Renewed sense of purpose or not, you're fucking tired. You dig in your wallet and extract a credit card. After dipping it onto the bag you bring the powdered covered corner to your nose.

Fuck that burns every time, but it only takes a second to work. You feel the immediate burst of energy. Then you drop the baggy back into your bag and wipe off your nose. Off to work.

Work was mindless and super easy. Your take for the night was smaller than normal, but that didn't matter. You don't typically buy a whole lot of things and you stay in your shithole apartment because it's cheap and you really don't spend a whole lot of time in it anyway. So your bank account is rather substantial. You don't have a car and your only non-apartment expense is your phone. You buy your parents things occasionally, but not enough to make a dent.

You stop by the drug store and grab some breakfast things. Eggs, milk, orange juice, bacon and bread as well as the largest electric blanket you could find. It's almost four by the time you get back so you try to be as quiet as possible. You're right about it getting cold in your apartment. You silently put the grocery bag in the refrigerator and then open the electric blanket. From the light of the perpetually lit business building across the street, coming through the cheap blinds of the apartment window, you can see Emily sound asleep between Brittany in the wall, two blankets on top of her as well as one of your jackets form the closet. Brittany on the other hand is curled up in a ball next to the edge of the bed. She's wearing a pair of your sweat pants and a t-shirt. You resist the urge to touch her just to see how cold she is. Instead you plug in the blanket and drape it over both of them.

A smile flickers on the corner of your lips. You don't know how and you don't know why, but you're glad that Brittany's back. Even if it's just for a week. Instead of the constant hollow ache in your chest, there's a warmth filling the void. She may not be yours anymore, but you're not going to let anything happen to her. You promised her that soon after you first met and you're going to stick to it.

Exhaustion starts to take you over so you kick off your boots and lay on the couch. You lay on the couch and close your eyes for a moment before sitting back up. You didn't trip when you walked over to the couch, which is not something that usually happens. Then you look around and find that your apartment is clean. All the dirty clothes are in the hamper and the kitchen counter is wiped down. All the empty beverage bottles are in the trash and all the dirty dishes are done. Your cigarettes aren't on the coffee table, but a quick sweep of the room and you find them on top of the refrigerator. That's probably so the kid doesn't get into them. You grab your gym bag and put it on top of the refrigerator as well. There's nothing in there the kid needs either.

Finally you lay back down, curl into the back of the couch and drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, you smell breakfast. You're also substantially warmer than you were a few hours ago. And when you move to roll onto your back you find out why. The electric blanket is on you now. After a stretch and a roll of your neck, you roll onto your back. The first person you see is Emily. She's sitting on the coffee table on the opposite end of the TV, watching some kind of kid's show. When she sees you, she smiles and says good morning before turning back to her show.

You sit up and over the back of the couch you can see Brittany in the kitchen. She's dumping the eggs out of the lone pan you have in the apartment onto a plate. Without looking up she says, "Em, do you want orange juice or milk?"

"Milk," the little girl pipes up. When the show goes to a commercial, she slides off the table and runs to the kitchen.

You slowly stand, stretching as you do. When you turn around, you see Brittany looking at you with a smile on her face, "Good morning."

"'Morning," you mumble. You need coffee and you try to remember if you have any coffee anywhere in the apartment, not that it would do you any good. You don't have a coffee makers. You usually just go to the diner and have some there around noon. You check the time and see that you're up two hours earlier than usual.

It doesn't matter. You shuffle to the bathroom and brush your teeth before walking out. Brittany sat Emily on the stool she colored at yesterday and she points to the stool next to it, directing you next to her. When you sit, she slides a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of you with a glass of orange juice. This is quite possibly the best breakfast you've eaten in a year.

The meal is quiet. Brittany is standing on the other side of the counter from you and Emily. You offer her your chair, but she just smiles and shakes her head. When you're all done, Brittany takes the plates and sets them in the sink. You start to get up to do them, but she just refills your orange juice and tells you to sit down.

"What are you two going to do today?" you ask, trying to make conversation.

Brittany shrugs, "We're just going to hang out here until we decide what to do. Unless you want us to leave so you can sleep?"

You shake your head, "No, I'm fine. I am going to run down the street and get some coffee. Do you want one?"

"Sure," she says. "Let me get my purse and I'll-"

"I got it," you tell her and stand up. When you throw on a jacket, the little girl is looking at you. You don't know what to say under her unwavering stare. It's creeping you out a little bit. Finally you sputter out, "Do you want like hot cocoa or something?"

Her eyes move to Brittany who smiles and nods. Then the little girl looks at you and nods her head.

You exhale when she looks back at the TV. You grab your purse and throw it over your shoulder, "I'll be right back."

You smoke a cigarette on the way to the diner and one of the way back. It's a nice contrast to the chilling air outside. When you get back, the dishes are done and Emily is back to coloring. Brittany is sitting on one of the stools looking at your laptop.

You set her coffee next to her. She smiles up at you. Her eyes trap you in place because they're warm and devastatingly familiar. "Thanks San." The nickname stabs you in the heart. You absently bring your hand up to rub your chest as you nod in acknowledgement.

Brittany takes the hot cocoa and takes the lid off, gently blowing on it before she gives it to Emily. The little girl smiles at her and accepts it. Brittany grins back and kisses her forehead. Brittany murmurs something you can't hear to the little girl, but when Emily smiles back and says, "Love you too," you know what she said.

There's something so beautiful about them and the way they interact. Like they were meant to be together.

A ringing interrupts the moment. Brittany looks around and grabs her phone off of the counter. "Hello?...hey…Um…sure, of course…I will-" Brittany bites her lip and surveys Emily then you, "I'll be there…okay. I'll see you then." She hangs up and looks at her phone.

You can tell that she's thinking fairly hard and wants to say something. You sit on one of the stools and look up at her. You want to ask her what's wrong but you can't. So you just watch her and wait.

Finally she looks at you. A nervous smile plays on her lips, "Um, can I ask you a huge favor? I feel really bad and I wouldn't ask if I didn't…I know you work at night and everything…"

"Britt," you stop her. Before you can filter what comes out of your mouth you say, "What do you need?"

"The director of the studio wants me to come in tomorrow," she taps her phone against her palm. Her eyes move to Emily before moving back to you.

"Oh," you nod. She needs you to babysit. You don't know how to babysit. You can hardly sit yourself.

She can sense the shiftiness in your demeanor and she sits down on the stool next to you. You're not sure she noticed that your arms brushed, but you sure did. She sighs, "Don't worry about it. I'll find…someone else."

"No," you can't let her find some stranger to watch the kid just because you're awkward as hell. "I'll-I'll do it."

Her face is relieved and she turns to you sliding off of the stool. Her arms slip around the back of your neck and she hugs you again. She's standing between your legs with her arms around you and all you can hear is the racing of your own heart. She smells so good even though you smell your own shampoo on her, it's just better. She smells so much better.

And before you know it, she feels so much better. Your arms are wrapped around her waist. You swear to god that they did it on their own. Your arms developed a mind of their own and are trying their best to rip your heart out without actually touching you.

"Thank you so much," she whispers in your ear, "I don't know what we would have done without you."

You close your eyes and swallow or at least attempt to. Nothing on your body is working at the moment.

She pulls back and gives you a wide smile. Your arms drop and her face softens. She pulled back, her arms scraping against your shoulders until her hands are resting on the curve of your neck. She bites her lip and takes a deep breath. Then she gives you a gentle squeeze before completely breaking contact.

The rest of the day is serene. You all just hang out and watch cartoons together. You fall asleep on the couch and when you wake up, Brittany's reading to Emily on the bed. Emily is tucked under Brittany's arm, laying into her. You don't want to disturb them so you quietly check her phone for the time. You find that you have to get going so you roll off of the bed and walk to the bathroom to get ready before going to work.

You leave with a half wave to Brittany who is the only blonde still awake. Emily is laying on her side. She smiles softly at you and you duck out before you let it sink in.

You didn't use any kind of 'helper' today before you went into work so you're exhausted when you leave. You forget that you were going to grab some more food on the way home. Instead you just trudge home.

You quietly open the door and put your bag on top of the refrigerator. Brittany and Emily are both asleep under the electric blanket and when you get to the couch, you find a pillow on one end and a blanket folded at the opposite end.

You don't know if it's your lack of sleep or just the pure caring that was put into this, but tears sting your eyes. In the grand scheme of things, this is nothing. A simple gesture of kindness, but it's the first simple gesture of kindness that has been extended to you in years and it hits you even harder that this gesture was offered to you by the one person in your life that you hurt the most.

You lay down and pull the blanket over you. You fight back sobs, but the tears flow freely down your face. You face away from the bed because looking at Brittany would make it that much worse.

You must have fallen sleep at some point because a small pat on your back is waking you up. "I'm hungry."

You rub your eyes, "Huh?"

"Can we eat breakfast?" Emily's small voice asks.

You roll onto your back and see the little girl's blue eyes staring at you. "Oh yeah. Totally." You roll off of the couch. After looking through the damn near empty cabinets and find almost no food left over from yesterday you curs to herself then out loud, "Fuuuck." Then you check to make sure the kid didn't hear you. She probably just did because when you look down next to you, you see the eyes of a hungry little kid. With a heavy sigh you say, "Alright get some shoes on or something. We're going out for breakfast."

So you both sit a tiny table in a restaurant down the street on the patio of a cute breakfast place. "You're not allergic to anything are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, but Brittany's allergic to cabbage."

You sip your coffee and nodded, "I know."

The girl scrunches up her face and tilts her head, "If you're best friends, why did you never come visit us?"

You are so not equipped for this. Especially not so early in the morning. "I was busy."

"What were you doing?" she asks, unraveling the paper napkin that housed her silverware.

You reach across the table and take the knife away, "Working."

"Where do you work?" She asks.

Alright too many questions from the peanut gallery. You quickly change the subject, "What are you going to eat?"

"Pancakes."

"Does Brittany let you eat pancakes?" You can't see why she wouldn't, but you don't want to piss Brittany off or completely fuck up this kid.

"Yeah. She makes the best blueberry pancakes."

You smile and nod. You were there when Brittany learned how to make them. Her mom taught you both at the same time. Never being one for any sort of domesticity, it went in one ear and out the other for you though.

Your eyes flicker to the cigarettes in your purse. Since you're outside you're allowed to smoke, but this kid is right across the table and…you just can't do it.

When the waiter appears, Emily orders for herself then looks at you when you don't say anything. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you ever hungry?"

You roll your eyes and looked at the waiter, "I'll have what the kid is having."

It doesn't take long for the pancakes to arrive which you're grateful for. You don't really have anything to say to the kid and she doesn't seem to have that much to say to you so she's just been ripping her paper napkin into little pieces a look of pure concentration on her face.

After scarfing down about half of her pancakes, Emily states, "These aren't as good as Brittany's."

"I know," you nod. Then you awkwardly ask, "Hey, what are you doing today?" She looks at you weird and you realize how stupid that question was. It's not like she had plans or friends here or money to go anywhere. So you add, "Do you like aquariums?"

"Like fish in a bowl?"

"No like a _real_ aquarium. Big ones with sharks and stuff." Brittany loved them and as far as you can tell this little squirt is pretty much a mini-Britt.

"I've never went to one."

"Really?" You realize that this is a dumb question when she looks at you like you're stupid.

When you walk to the out of the restaurant, the kid takes your hand. It's odd at first because when people touch you now it was usually someone groping you. The little girl's hand isn't the rough, drunken grab you're used to. It's soft and it kinda makes you sad that you don't remember what it feels like for someone to touch you without something wicked on their mind.

Once at the aquarium you pay the prick who apparently never learned not to stare at people tits no matter how magnificent they are. Well unless they're on a pole and you're off of work so he can stop drooling until your shift starts at eight.

"Whoa," the kid says, her nose almost touching the glass.

"It's an angel fish," you inform her with your hands in your pockets.

"Wow," she breathes. Then she jumps and grabs onto your leg. A large ugly fish appears in front of her. You put your hand on her head. You're surprised at how soft her hair is. That again makes you sad because your lack of human contact is now screaming at you and demanding to know what happened to you.

"What was that?" she asks, inching closer to the glass.

"It was an eel."

"It's…ugly."

You nod. Definitely ugly.

You move along from tank to tank looking at every fish and reading each plaque to her.

If you hadn't been sleeping with Brittany when this kid was born, you'd swear she belonged to her. They have the same wide-eyed fascination with the world. Well, you haven't see Brittany's face light up since she showed up at your door, but before you left Ohio, Emily's a dead ringer for little Brittany.

"Can we get a stuffed animal for Brittany?" and you see the Brittany in her again. Instead of getting something for herself. She wants to get one for Brittany.

"Sure."

When you get home, the child is asleep and heavy as hell carrying up the stairs. You take her to the bed and lay her down. You're so ready to lay down yourself.

But when you turn around to the couch, you find something you definitely didn't expect. Brittany is laying on the bed, wiping the tears away from her red eyes.

You don't know what to say so you awkwardly offer, "We had a long day." You pause with one hand in your pocket, the other clutching the souvenir from the aquarium, "Did something happen today at work?"

She shakes her head and sniffles, "No. Work was fun. This is…nothing." She sits up all the way, her legs crossed. Her eyes drift to the stuffed dolphin in your hand, "Where did you go?"

"Breakfast then the aquarium," you offer, unsure of what else to say.

She nods and stands. You figure she's going to lay down on the bed so you step back from the couch. But when she gets near you, her arms slide around your neck. She's hugging you and your body reacts before your brain can. Your arms encircle her waist, betraying you again.

"Thank you so much," she whispers, "I was so scared that you wouldn't even want to see me."

You didn't at first, but she's Brittany and she had a kid with her. You're cold, but you're not heartless. Kid or not it's not like you'd ever throw her out anyway. Your hands resting on the small of her back tingle so you pull away, "No problem."

She sits back down on the couch and you can tell she wants you to sit with her. You leave a whole cushion between you because you're still tingling. "When I told the director where I was living, he told me that they usually pay to have their dancers move and didn't know that I hadn't gotten that so he gave me a check."

"Oh yeah?" you ask.

She nods, her hair falling into her face. When she pushes it back she says, "I found an apartment."

"Really?" you choke out. You knew they were going to move, but you didn't know it was going to be this soon.

She draws her knees to her chest and rests her chin one of them. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you if I moved into this building first."

"This building?" you ask in complete disbelief.

She nods, "I already looked at it and it's really nice."

"Nice in this building?" you quirk an eyebrow.

Brittany chuckles, "Yeah." Her smile fades and she looks sad again, "I just didn't want to move far from you."

You run a hand through your hair. "I, uh…yeah that's cool. Do you need help with your stuff?"

"No. I already moved it," she grins mischievously, "There's no furniture yet, but I'm going to go get some tomorrow."

"Oh okay," you look down at your lap, "Well you know…you can stay here for like…as long as you need."

"Thank you Santana. I couldn't have done this without you."

You shrug her off, "Yes you could have." You stand up and grab your bag off the top of the refrigerator, "I just remembered. I have to go do something before work." She watches you and says bye before you can escape.

You knew this was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. It took you less than three days for you to get attached to her again and you're so pissed at yourself for allowing it. And now she's moving out and it sucks.


	3. Chapter 3

When you get home from work and see Brittany and Emily sleeping in your bed you get even more depressed. So you grab the vodka out of the freezer and fall back onto the couch. After a few really hefty gulps you close it and put it down on the coffee table. You wait for it to take its intended effect as you stare at the ceiling and bite back tears.

This is all Brittany's fault. She had to come here and remind you what you're missing. Remind you why you had to move so far away. Remind you what it was like to be considered and cared about. Now she's just going to leave. This is all her fault. It's all her fault because you don't want to blame yourself.

After a few minutes, the alcohol settles in and you drift off into a chaotic sleep.

When you wake up, it's bright outside. You squint against the unhindered sunlight pouring in from the windows. The curtains had been pulled back and cringe as you push up on your elbows.

On the coffee table next to you, the bottle of vodka is replaced with a bottle of water and a note. You fall back onto the couch and huff. Why the fuck does she have to be so sweet? And why are you upset that she's leaving? Why did you let her stay in the first place?

You don't know any answers and you don't suppose it matters anymore. Brittany waltzed in with her kindness and crushed your taped-together psyche with it before sashaying out.

You pick up the note and look it over. In Brittany's bubbly handwriting she writes :

We went to our new apartment. - 512 - You can come over if you want to. We have donuts.

She ends it with a smiley face and a heart in front of the first letter of her name. You drop the note on the table and look around the apartment. It's cleaned and the bed is made. Their bags are gone as is any other trace of the blondes.

You punch the back cushion of the couch. Then you slowly sit up and drain the water bottle. After a shower and a change of clothes, you go up the two floors to Brittany's new apartment. It's a little awkward when you knock on the door, but when Brittany smiles at you, all thoughts of running back to the elevator are abandoned.

"You came," she says, a little surprised, but definitely pleased.

You nod, "I came to…" you think quickly so you don't have to say you were depressed and lonely and came to see her. "See if you needed any help."

She steps back to let you in and then closes the door behind you, "Not really. When the furniture gets here you can help put it together."

Inside, there is absolutely no furniture. It's definitely bigger than your apartment and the living room's wooden floors aren't as scratched. There's an mp3 dock off to the side and Emily is dancing around the bare floors to a hip-hop beat. It's adorable and you can tell she's trying to emulate Brittany's moves.

"You didn't bring any furniture with you?" you ask, shoving your hands in your pockets.

She shakes her head, the soft waves of her blonde hair ripple. "I sold most of the stuff in the house because it wouldn't fit in my car. We used to money to come here."

You nod and look back at Emily. The song has changed and she's doing some kind of improvised ballet-jazz fusion.

"Are you hungry?" Brittany asks, turning a box of donuts around on the small kitchenette's counter.

You nod and pick one up. There's a coffee maker on the far counter and an empty coffee maker box on the floor. Brittany seems to read your mind and opens the cabinet. There are three mugs along with mismatched plates and a few glasses in the cabinets. She hands you a cup of coffee and you just nod in a thank you.

"Where did you get your furniture from?" you ask as you both watch Emily dance around endlessly.

"There's a furniture store on 34th street. Right now its just Emily's bed and a table."

You quirk an eyebrow, "Where are you going to sleep?"

She shrugs, "Probably with her."

"You can have my bed," you offer, "I usually pass out on the couch anyway."

She looks at you thoughtfully. There's a sadness in her eyes and she holds your eyes, probing for information. You look away and run a nervous hand through your hair. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," you nod, "Yeah I was going to buy a new one anyway. A smaller one. That one takes up like half the apartment."

She smiles at you, accepting your answer, "Thanks."

You look from Emily who is dancing her heart out to Brittany who is watching her affectionately. It's just too much. You toss your whole donut back into the box and walk out of the apartment.

"Where are you going?" Brittany calls after you.

You turn around in the hallway. She's standing outside the door, one hand resting on the frame. "I-" your voice cracks so you pause to gather yourself. "I'm going to get the bed ready."

The look on her face is worried. She bites her lip and waits to see if there's more. When there's just silence and awkward staring she lets out a smile, "Let me know when you're done. We'll come help you move it."

You just nod and walk off. When you get back to your apartment, you rip the sheets off of the bed and grab some clean ones out of the closet. Then you sit down on the windowsill and smoke a cigarette. Then you smoke another one. Then you grab some blow from your freezer and after a small amount has materialized in your system, you shake your head, trying to rid your brain of any and all thoughts.

With a heavy sigh you finally push the mattress off of the frame and try to figure out how to get it out the fucking door.

When you go get the girls, Brittany tells Emily to carry the clean sheets while you two negotiate the frame out the door, down the hallway, into the elevator, onto her floor, into her apartment and into her empty bedroom.

Then you do the same with the mattress. Once it's up, Emily tries to put the sheets on the mattress by herself. When Brittany takes over, you go back to your apartment and get a large fluffy down blanket (your favorite), the electric blanket and the only two pillows you have to your name. When she asks if you're sure, you lie and tell her you have more pillows and blankets in your closet.

You and Brittany sit on the edge of the bed after it's made, the only thing in the room. Emily is off dancing again and you two are alone. A strange though strikes you as she streaks from one side of the living room to the other. "What are you going to do with Emily when you start work?"

"I don't know. I've been looking at daycares and stuff, but I don't really want to put her in one," Brittany sighs heavily, "I only need someone to watch her on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"I'll…take care of her." What did you just say? You must still be drunk.

She looks at you with a serious face, furrowed eyebrows and all, and says, "Really?"

You nod, "Yeah."

"You're the only person I'd really want her to stay with here, but you have to promise me something," she says holding your eyes. You raise your eyebrows in anticipation for the promise. She takes a deep breath, "You can't drink or do drugs or any of that when you're with her. I love her San. If anything happened to her…"

You quickly agree. "Of course." That's pretty much a given. You may like a bump and a shot here and there, but with children? No fucking way. It hurts a little that she doesn't trust you to know that on your own.

"Thank you so much," she rubs your arm and you can feel your muscles tense up. She can apparently feel it too because she withdraws her hand. "For helping with Emily and giving me all this stuff."

You just nod and look down at your knees. You'd give her your couch if you thought it wasn't actually starting to fall apart. You can sleep on the floor. You've done it before.

You'd give her everything. That's always been true. If she needs anything you'll get it for her. You can't not take care of her. The deepest part of your being is ingrained with the care for Brittany complex. Now Brittany has a kid so you're going to take care of the kid too.

She stands up and you stand with her. She crosses her arms, unsure of what to do with them, "We're going to go grocery shopping," she lets out a grin, "Wanna go?"

It amazes you how maternal Brittany is. She tells Emily that she can't have certain things because they're bad for her. She also gets a bunch of fruit and vegetables as well as a pan and some utensils.

She sure has grown up a lot. Of course she's always been a lot life smarter than you. Most obviously, she's buying food while you're living off of vodka, coffee, cocaine, and cigarettes. Being in a grocery store _does_ make you hungry so you buy a pizza on the way to Brittany's apartment and you arrive just as the furniture does.

Emily's bed has a white headboard and footboard with pink ballerina's painted on and the dining table is a dark wood. The picture on the box shows that it's a tall table with four chairs. Of course the box that it's in is heavy and only a couple of inches deep meaning that you're going to be putting together every single piece of it.

You both put together Emily's bed first before you start on the table. As you and Brittany sit in the middle of the living room surrounded by long planks of wood, screws and bolts, Emily is laying in her bed playing with some dolls that were in her bag.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Brittany asks, handing you a screw that you pointed to, "I'm going to make stir fry."

You look up at her, questioningly.

She shrugs, "You've done so much for us. Let me at least feed you."

You accept because you haven't had a home-cooked dinner since the last time you were in Lima which was almost a year ago. Your dad cooked his famous enchiladas for the entire family.

So when the table and chairs are done, Brittany gets to cooking and you play hide-and-seek with Emily because she asked and batter her baby blues. There aren't many places to hide and she hides in the same place every time.

One time you were hiding in the kitchen on the opposite side of the counter from the living room. You were crouched down and Brittany was standing a few feet away from you at the stove. Her loose bun was starting to fall, a few tendrils of blonde hair framing her face. She moves to get something past you and on her way, she rubs the top of your head. It's affectionate and so natural. She doesn't even break her stride to do it and when she's back at the stove, you look up at her. She turns to you with a soft smile before turning back to the food.

Things would be so much easier if it wasn't so easy to be around her. You can't think about it long though because Emily finds you and the game is back on.

After dinner you help Brittany clean up and then drop by your apartment to grab your bag. You're going into work with a full stomach for the first time in a long time.

This goes on for a few more days and you're getting more and more exhausted as the days go by. You spend all day with Brittany and Emily and then all night at work. You haven't eaten this well in a while and although you're spending more money on blow that you have in a while (girl's gotta stay awake somehow) you find this life livable. It's easier than it was. You have something to do. People who depend on your for certain things. It's nice.

One night you're particularly tired. You're thinking that you're going to have to sleep all day tomorrow and let the girls go to the zoo themselves. You've never been so excited to see your apartment building.

But when you get to your apartment door there's a huge sign stuck to the front of it.

EVICTION

What the fuck is this? You swear you paid your rent on the…the date doesn't matter. You fucking paid it.

Then you check your bank account on your phone and find that after a particularly hazy weekend bender you did not pay it. "Fuck," you huff. You do not need this.

You try your key and find that it doesn't fit anymore. So you kick in the door. Rational? No, but you're sorta drunk and pretty high and you're pissed as hell. What kind of asshole waits to lock you out of your fucking apartment until you're at work. Especially in the middle of the night.

Your couch is covered with a plastic trap that's taped on like that's what's holding the piece of shit together. It doesn't take you long to empty out your small closet into a box.

You get the bottle of vodka out of the freezer and finish it before tossing it over your shoulder. You hear the glass shatter against the ground.

After you check all of your stash places to make sure they're all empty, you look around. You think it's probably a good thing that you gave half of your furniture away. The couch, the TV and the coffee table are still here, but you can buy new ones. It's not like you're paying rent anymore.

So all your shit is in the box. Everything you own, down to one fucking box. You pick it up and walk to the elevator then go up two floors to the only place you have to go to.

You set the box down outside of the door and debate whether or not to knock. It's three a.m. They're asleep. You're pretty trashed. You don't want Brittany to see you like this. Your back teeth grind together and your jaw moves on it's own from the line you did earlier.

You sit down on top of the box and lean back against the wall. You have no idea what happened to you. It all spiraled out of control so far and so fast that you don't think you could have stopped it. Now you're in this...rut with you're not with Brittany. You're stuck and you don't know how to get out. You're homeless. You're drunk and a little high. You're sorry. You're so, so sorry.

Finally you do get up the courage to knock on the door. You hear the locks scrape against each other and when the door opens, Brittany squints at you. The apartment is dark behind her and her hair is all over the place. Her large t-shirt is hanging on to one of her shoulder and falling off of the other one. Her sweatpants are too big, riding low on her hips and exposing the top of her lacy panties, but she doesn't seem to notice.

The first thing you say is, "You should have left the chain on until you knew who I was."

She rests her head on the doorframe, "I checked the peephole. What's wrong?"

"I…um," you take a deep breath, "I got evicted."

"Oh San," she opens the door fully and pulls you inside by your hand. You vaguely motion to the box behind you and she pushes it inside with her foot. She closes and locks the door before taking your jacket.

You were furious before you go onto the elevator. You wanted to yell and scream and punch things. When Brittany opened the door, all of that was gone. It was replaced with a crushing feeling in your lungs and burning in your eyes; in your stomach. You're trying so desperately to hold back tears, but you can't stop your voice from cracking when you say, "You don't have a couch."

She links her pinkie with yours and pulls you into her bedroom. Once you're laying down on her bed, surrounded in her smell and locked into her arms, you lose it. You don't think you've ever cried that hard in your life.

She doesn't even say anything. She just holds you. She rubs your back and strokes your hair and squeezes you tight as you let out years of failures. Years of regrets. Years of drinking and drugs and sex and stripping, most of which you don't even remember.

You cry until you fall asleep, your head resting on Brittany's shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around you.

When you wake up you're alone in the bedroom and the door is closed. You remember what happened last night and are immediately embarrassed. You didn't mean to cry like that. You didn't mean to absolutely lose it.

You put your hand on the bed next to you to sit up. The dip in the bed caused by your hand makes your phone slide into your hand. You don't remember ever having your phone last night, but you usually keep it in your back pocket when you're not using it so it makes sense that it made it here with you. There's a red blinking light in the upper corner indicating some kind of message or e-mail.

You lay back on the bed and pick up your phone. It's a text message from Brittany. _I'm taking Emily to see a friend in Manhattan Beach so you can have the apartment for the day. Get some sleep. There's lots of food so please eat too. _It was signed with a heart and a 'B'.

You see that that message was sent over an hour ago. You get out of bed and take a shower in the only bathroom in the apartment. When you get out you're in a towel, about to dig in your box for something to wear. As you're digging, you spot the shirt Brittany was wearing last night laying at the foot of the bed. You look around like someone is going to catch you before pulling that shirt over your head. Then you grab some of your black skinny jeans and go to the kitchen. The smell of Brittany's perfume hasn't changed since you were last with her. It's all over this shirt and your heart pounds just smelling it. You remember all the nights you spend wrapped up in her and all the days you spend trying to get as much physical contact as possible. You remember every 'I love you' and every passionate kiss.

You find yourself sitting on the bed and smiling as a handful of tears slide down your face. You're not the same person anymore. You're a shadow of who you were. You're not the same person Brittany fell in love with and you'll never be together again. You'll never be together again because you refuse to drag her down with you. You don't think you can stop yourself, but you can stop her from coming with you. She has a kid that counts on her and you're not worth it. Not anymore.

There's some leftover pizza that you force down because Brittany will use her super Santana-knowing powers and know that you haven't eaten if you don't. You can't stand her disappointed look anymore.

You clean up the kitchen and then dolls on the living room floor and put them in Emily's room. There's not much in there, but a bed so you drop the dolls on the bed and come up with a plan.

After you finish eating you grab a bottle of water, your purse and your jacket. You open the door and then realize that you don't have a key to lock the door. You shoot Brittany a quick text, asking if she has an extra key you can lock the door with. Her reply is quick. She tells you that she already put one on the keychain in your purse.

Fuck that girl is amazing. You just reply with thanks and leave the apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

You barely make it up to the apartment with everything you're carrying. It takes you a minute to open the door, but when you kick the door shut behind you, you set everything down.

After sorting a few things out, you grab a few bags and take them to Emily's room and half an hour later you find yourself reading the instructions to the dollhouse that didn't look so hard to build in the store. "Shit," you mutter under your breath and start searching for part 4F. Once it's done, you place all the little furniture and dolls you got inside as well as the dolls she already had. You admire your handy work and start cleaning up the mess.

Then you go back into the living room and look around. You didn't buy any furniture or anything because you weren't sure if Brittany just wanted to keep the living room a dance studio for her and Emily. You smile at the memory of them dancing together a few days ago. They're so cute together.

Then you look around the apartment and find that you're ridiculously bored. So you grab your laptop and sit on Brittany's bed with it. You check all your email and finally decide to reply to your Abuelo. Most of what you write back is lies, but you'd rather him think you work as a barista trying to make a singing career then a stripper with a habit.

You worry about him. Your parents take care of him, but occasionally you send him some money. They're tips you get which is what you tell him and the truth, but he thinks they're collected in a jar, not in your bra.

You tell him you love him and you'll visit soon. After you send the email, you close your computer and set it on the ground next to the bed. You roll over on the bed and pull the blanket up to your chin. You take a deep breath and inhale Brittany. You love that her perfume clings to every sheet and pillow on the bed. It makes you feel safe.

You wake up to a tap, tap, tap on your arm. When you slowly open your eyes big blue eyes are looking back.

"There's a dollhouse in my room and more dolls."

You smile at the matter-of-fact way she said it. You just nod against your pillow.

"Is it for me?"

You nod again.

Emily unexpected launches herself onto the bed to hug you before thanking you as she ran off.

You hear someone else chuckling from the doorway. You roll onto your back to find, as you expected, Brittany. She smiles at you, "You didn't have to do that. I was going to get her some things next week."

"It's not a big deal. She's a kid. Kid's need toys," you stretch and sit up, "How was Manhattan Beach?"

"It was fun," she smiles. She sets her purse down on the floor next to the door and sits down on the bed.

Her smile fades as she smoothes out the blanket on the bed. She's sitting sideways and her eyes rise to you, "How do you feel?"

You know what she's asking and you're not going to answer her hidden question. "Great," you smile, "Naps are the best."

She forces a smile, knowing that you dodged the question, "Good. We brought some lasagna home if you're hungry and I'll start dinner soon."

"Thanks."

"Do you work tonight?" she asks as she stands up.

You shake your head.

A real smile takes place on her face, "Awesome."

When you get out of bed and make a pit stop in the bathroom, you go into the living room where Brittany is sitting on the counter of the kitchenette reading a book. You assume Emily is in her room playing so you make your way to the refrigerator. You find the lasagna that Brittany described and take it to the table with a fork. It's cold and still in the tin, but you're really hungry.

After you sit down you see the tin lifted off of the table by Brittany. She goes into the kitchen and gets down a plate. Then she cuts out some lasagna and puts it on the plate and then places it in the microwave while she gets something else out of the refrigerator. When she gives you the plate back, the lasagna is warm and there's a small salad on the plate next to it.

You swallow hard because you don't know what to say except thank you. She's beyond sweet. When you do thank her she just smiles and sits down at the table across from you with her book.

You eat quickly because you don't really have much to say to Brittany and she seems engrossed in her book.

When you're done eating, you decide that Brittany's done enough so when she tries to take your empty plate you pull it out of her reach and take it to the sink yourself.

You go back into the bedroom and get back on your computer. Your phone is on the bed and blinking with a new message.

_10:30 at RedWall_

It's a text from one of your friends. They're meeting at a club at 10:30. Youre friends are nocturnal and 10:30 is early for them.

You don't know if you should go. Of course Brittany and Emily will be asleep and going out will keep from the awkwardness of sharing a bed with Brittany.

You tell them that you'll see them there and start mentally going through your clothes to see what you're going to wear.

When Brittany comes to see what you want for dinner, you tell her that you don't care and that you're going out tonight with your friends. She looks severely disappointed, but you promise her that you won't wake her up. You even offer to stay at your friend's house.

"This is your home," she tells you, "I'm never going to tell you to stay away. What time are you leaving?"

You shrug, "Ten. After Emily goes to sleep."

Her face flashes with different emotions. She's still disappointed, but a faint smile plays on her lips at your mention of Emily. She nods, "Okay. Be careful San. Please."

You just stare at her for a moment before nodding, "I will."

After a quick dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches (Emily's pick), you help Brittany clean up the kitchen.

"Can you tell me a scary story?" Emily asks, tugging on your shirt. She's already changed in her pajamas and ready for bed. She's had a long day and told you both that she was ready for bed before changing herself.

You look to Brittany who shrugs, just as clueless as you. As you're walking into Emily's room she calls, "Not too scary."

You sit on the floor next to the bed and rest your arm on the mattress next to Emily. "Okay um…It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark. Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart. You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it. You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes. You're paralyzed. 'Cause this is thriller, thriller night. And no one's gonna save you from the beast about strike. You know it's thriller, thriller night. You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight…." You keep reciting the lyrics you know by heart while Emily half-listens as she fights with her eyelids to stay awake.

By the time you're done reciting lyrics, she's asleep.

You exhale and stand, finding Brittany in the doorways watching. She smiles, "That wasn't really a scary story."

"It's the best I could do." You smile back.

As Brittany gets ready for bed, you get ready to go out. Your dress is black and tight. Strapless with creases up and down the sides. You complete the outfit with some black strappy heels. You just let your hair go in all it's natural straightness. Light make up and you're done.

You hear a small gasp when Brittany walks back into the room. When you look at her she blushes and looks away. You let out a small smile knowing why she gasped. You do look good, but you weren't sure exactly how good until she walked in.

She tells you one last time to be careful before you leave. You just give her a fleeting smile before walking out.

Your friends are insane. Not in the straightjacket way, but in the bottles of vodka and tequila kind of way. You lose track of the number of shot thrust your way and when your friend and fellow stripper takes your hand and pulls you into the bathroom, you both do a line together off of the mirror she keeps in her purse. You like coke and all, but you'll never doing it off of any part of a toilet.

There are more shots and more drinks and a lot of grinding on a dance floor. You even make out with a random girl in the bathroom for a few minutes until you can't pretend that she's Brittany anymore and walk out.

You really don't want to be thinking of Brittany. You've been trying to forget her for the past few years, but you can't. You really can't. No amount of alcohol or drugs will make you forget. Especially now that you live with her again.

All you can do is contain your feelings as best you can and try to drown them in their little box. The only problem with that is that when you open the box to pour the alcohol on top of them, they all escape and you can feel it. You feel every waking second that you haven't been with her since you left. Every tear that you choked back and every lonely night comes bubbling up to the surface.

Last night when she held you while you were cry didn't do anything to help that. She still cares about you. Maybe not in the same way she used to but she does. All the little things she does for you…she cares for you deeply. And she's at least physically attracted to you as evidenced by her oogling back at the apartment when you got dressed for the club.

You down another shot. You can't even tell what kind of liquor it is anymore. You just hope that the burn will consume you. And it does for a while. You black out and regain cognition as you're puking in a trashcan in front of your apartment building.

After you're done, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and take a deep breath. That was a bad idea because you inhale the scent of the trashcan mixed with your own vomit and you start dry heaving over the trashcan again.

Somehow you stumble up the stairs and open the door. You lock it and take off your shoes so you don't wake anyone up with your heels. When you get to the bedroom, Brittany's sleeping peacefully and you stand there, leaning up against the wall just watching her.

She's off limits to you, from now until forever because you've fucked up your life. You're not good enough for her and you never have been. Then you moved to New York and proved it. You're pretty sure at this point you don't deserve her as a friend either. You'd move out of the apartment and get your own, but then you couldn't torture yourself anymore. You couldn't look at her and tell yourself that you can't have her.

You start sinking down on the wall before you feel the bile crawl up your throat. You run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet before the shots makes another reappearance.

You decide that you're sleeping in the damn bathtub because you feel really sick and you don't want Brittany to see you like this. You're exhausted and your eyes droop after one last heave. You fall back onto the wall behind you and pull your knees to your chest, letting your eyes fall shut.

But a cool feeling on your forehead, causes you to barely open your eyes. You see a washcloth move over your forehead before disappearing. When you open your eyes more, you see Brittany standing at the sink rinsing it off before kneeling down next to you. Her eyes are red, the way they get when she's been crying and you can still see the remnants of tear tracks down her face.

"You okay?" you lull your head to the side. Your head is pounding, but you need to know what's wrong with her so you can fix it. She struggle to stand, but eventually do it with some help from her. Her arm around your waist is faint, but enough to make you blink the night away.

She sets you down on the bed and unzips your dress. You bat her hand away and stand on your own. Then her take her arms and guide her down onto the bed. After removing your dress, you crawl into the bed next to her. A new pool of tears gather in her eyes and you don't know what's wrong, but you know that you're still drunk enough to not care about keeping your distance. You gather her in your arms and hold her against you.

Her arms cling to you and you can feel the skin of your legs brush against hers as she intertwines them. You feel her hot tears fall on your collarbone and run down your sides, disappearing in the material of your strapless bra. One of her hands is on your side, gently holding onto you. You haven't felt this alive in a long time.

"What's wrong?" you ask, against her forehead, "Is Emily okay?"

"She's fine," Brittany sniffles.

You move her hair out of her face and look down at her. That was the wrong thing to do because the tears on her face completely melt you. Her eyes meet yours and the way she looks at you…you have to look away.

"You scared me," she confesses.

You search your mind for when you could have scared her. You were quiet when you came in so you didn't do just that. So you look down at her again and see why. She saw you passed out on the floor of the bathroom. She saw you a crumpled mess on the cold tile and it scared her.

You let out a deep sigh. And here you thought you were just torturing yourself with staying here. Now you're torturing her too.

"I'm sorry," you squeeze her, "I'll find somewhere else to live tomorrow."

"No," she says immediately, "You're going to stay here."

"Britt," you sigh, "I don't want to upset you."

"I'll be more upset if you leave," she states. You can feel her hand on your hip and her finger softly stroking your skin. You know now is not the time to be turned on because you're having a serious conversation, but you can't help it. She's always done this to you. She props her head up with her elbow to look at you.

"Why?" you shake your head. You know that she doesn't make sense some times, but now you feel like you're the one that's not getting it.

"I just want you to stay here okay?" she begs, trying to get you to not question her.

You know it's probably a combination of a lot of things. She doesn't want to be alone with Emily because she's scared she'll do something wrong. She doesn't want you to be alone, because some night you're going to stumble home and choke on your own vomit and if there's no one there, you'll die in your bathroom floor because no one loved you enough to make you stay. Maybe, just maybe she enjoys your company. Your sober company.

You hold her eyes for as long as you can before nodding, "Okay. I'll stay."

She lets out a sigh of relief and wraps her arms around your waist, holding your bodies together. "Thank you."

A small kiss on the curve of your neck and she settles down to sleep in your arms. You stare at the ceiling for a few more minutes before sleep overcomes you.

You wake up first and quickly, with a twinge of panic untangle your almost naked self from Brittany. Luckily she stays asleep. You brush your teeth and put on some clothes before going to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Emily wakes up while you're in the middle of adding the vegetables into the migas. It's one of your favorite things that your Abuelo taught you. It's pretty much the only Hispanic type cooking you know how to do but you're damn good at it. Plus Brittany always loves them.

Emily looks at it with a crinkled nose when you set it down in front of her, but she tries it anyway. Then she looks up at you with a smile before cleaning her plate. You take a few bites out of the pan before Brittany shuffles out of the bedroom.

Neither one of you say anything about the night before. She eyes you before you hand her a full plate. She gives you a hug with the plate in one hand before joining Emily at the table.

"How's Abuelo?" Brittany asks before taking the first bite.

You remember that Brittany has actually met him many times and the two are fond of each other. "He's doing well. He emailed me a few days ago. He's thinking about going on a cruise to Alaska."

"Good," she nods and continues eating, "This is great San." She looks over at Emily, "Did you like it?"

Emily nods, "Yup. It was yummy."

Brittany looks approvingly at her plate, "You can go play if you want."

Emily slides out of her chair and runs to her room.

Without the buffer of Emily, you feel like you need to do something to distract yourself so you start washing dishes. After a few minutes Brittany asks, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"I already did," you state, not looking up from the dishes.

"Liar," she states.

Your head whips over to where she is and her eye lock onto yours. Finally you give in, scraping the last of the migas onto the plate and join her.

The only sound is the scraping of your forks against the plates. You stare hard at your food and carefully chew your food so that Brittany finishes before you do. You don't want to have to think of something to say.

Luckily, she does that for you, "What are your plans for today?"

You shrug, "Hang out."

"Do you think we could…talk?" she says.

When you subtly look up at her, you find that she's staring at her plate. After a bite, she looks up and sees you looking.

"Um," you stutter, "I-I actually-"

She interrupts you with a heartbreaking, "Never mind."

"Brittany," you sigh, "You know that I-"

She just shakes her hand and stands up, taking her empty plate with her. You drop your head on the table and try to think of a good excuse to leave.


	5. Chapter 5

You don't actually leave. You actively avoid Brittany by hiding out in Emily's room playing countless hours of dolls. Okay, so it wasn't countless hours, but you didn't even like playing this when you were little.

"I'll be right back," you tell Emily and wait for her to nod before you step into the living room. Brittany laying flat on her back on the floor, holding a book over her face. She's biting her lip they way she used to when she got really into something and you immediately look away because she's adorable when she does that.

She doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day. She avoids you, but during lunch she made your sandwich just the way you like it and placed it on the table with hers and Emily's. The lunch was quiet between the adults, but Emily chattered away like there was nothing amiss.

Every time you look at Brittany and she was looking at you, she's quickly look away. It hurt. It hurt a lot. So you left a few hours before your shift and hit up a bar close to the club. Three shots of tequila have you feeling better. Then when you get to the club, two lines off of a mirror put you over the moon. You don't remember dancing, but apparently you did well, leaving with almost a thousand dollars in tips.

You stop by your friendly neighborhood coke dealer on the way back to the apartment then drop by a liquor store. It's later than usual, when you get back because you walked the block a few times.

Brittany's still asleep when you get home, her phone in her hand. You wonder if she was talking to someone or waiting for something. Then you realize it's none of your business because she's none of your business.

You walk over to the window and look down. You knew you saw a fire escape on one of the rounds you made. You watch Brittany while you push open the ancient window. Then you grab your workbag and slip out the window closing it behind you.

You open the bottle of whiskey and take a long painful drink. Then you light a cigarette and lean back against the old building. The sun is just starting to come up, taking its first peek through the menagerie of buildings.

You know you should get some sleep, but you can't face Brittany. Not right now. Maybe not ever. You can't even lay next to her while she's sleeping. She brings up all your emotions, good and bad.

Another drink from the bottle down and another cigarette lit before you draw your knees to your chest. You can feel emotion well up in a blinding force behind your eyes. You rest your forehead on your knees, pushing the tears back down. You're not going to cry. You're done doing that.

Of course that's when the object of your frustration decides to make an appearance. You hear the window slide open scraping against the windowsill. You push your bottle of liquor back toward the building trying to shield it from Brittany's view. You look away from her, but can hear her sit down next to you.

You're both quiet, staring out into the early morning. She shifts and when you look at her, she's looking up at the sky. She doesn't look at you when she asks, "Why did you leave?"

You know what she means. Why did you tell her you couldn't see her anymore and disappear from Ohio? You watch your cigarette slowly burn before asking back, "Your mom didn't tell you?"

Her eyes fall to you and she looks genuinely confused, "_My_ mom?"

You nod and lean back down on the wall. You take a long drink of liquor and put your bottle of Johnny Walker back on the metal grate next to you. You think you shouldn't be having this conversation. You know it's a bad idea, but you're drunk and exhausted. You'll be brutally honest and take no emotional prisoners. Does that stop you? Never. You take a long drag of your cigarette, "She told me to leave you alone."

"What do you mean?"

You can still hear Brittany's mom telling you, calmly and evenly that you'd never be worthy of her daughter. "She told me I wasn't good enough for you. That I would drag you down." If she had yelled it at you, it wouldn't have impacted you as much, but when her quiet voice explained that you'd never deserve Brittany, it killed you inside. You've been trying to bring that part of you alive since you left, but you haven't been able to find anything that made you feel as good as Brittany did…does.

She immediately shakes her head, "She was wrong. You know that wasn't-"

"No I didn't," your voice cracks with tears that roll down your face. You don't even try to stop and compose yourself, "That was always, _always_ my biggest fear. That I was holding you back. That I was never good enough for you. Now we know that your mom was right."

"She's not right," Brittany states, placing her hand on top of yours, "If you weren't here we'd still be in Lima scraping by. Emily is happy for the first time in a long time and she loves you. I lo-"

You put up your hand to stop her forward progression, "Don't." You remove your hand from under hers and wipe your face.

"Why not?" she's turning toward you, to look at you fully.

Your voice is whisper-quiet when you say, "I'm not good for you."

"How are you not good for me? If it weren't for you I wouldn't eat or sleep. When we were in Lima I was a mess. I need you." She takes your hand again, this time not letting go.

You sigh, "That's fine. You can need me, but you can't," you pause, "You can't…fall in love with me."

She doesn't skip a beat, "Too late."

"No Britt-" you start to pull away from her again, but she holds tight to your hand.

"You can't 'no Britt' me anymore. We're not in high school. I've always loved you. Over the past few weeks I remembered why." Her voice is firm and there is fire in her words. They're strong and soft and you feel yourself standing in top of a slippery slope, looking down.

You decide to turn away from her and look down at the street, "I think you're over looking one huge word."

"What?"

"Whore. I'm a fucking whore Brittany." You don't want her to love you. You don't deserve it. You're career is…not something you thought it would be. You drink. You do cocaine. You don't deserve her.

She moves your hair away from your face, "You are not a whore."

"I take my clothes off for money. I'm not a good role model for a kid. I'm not someone you want to associate with." You don't know how to explain it to make her understand.

"Do you blow every guy that pays you?"

The question takes you by surprise and you offer your knee-jerk reaction, "Fuck no."

"Then you're not a whore. You're going on a date with me." It's a statement. It's not a question and when you look at her, she's confident.

You have to make sure you heard it right, "What?"

"Go on a date with me."

"No."

She tilts her head, "Why not?"

"Britt," you whine. You're losing your will to fight. You just want her to drop it.

She squeezes your hand before letting go and standing up, "Fine, but I'm going to keep asking until you say yes."

"Whatever," you sigh and stand up with her. Time for your ever-deft subject change. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I'll get something on the way to the studio," she tells you, slipping into the bedroom. You pause to look at your phone for the day and sure enough it is Thursday, Brittany's first day of work and your first day as babysitter.

"Will you be okay with her?" Brittany asks.

You take a deep breath and nod. You promised to do this and you're going to. You can handle just coffee for a while. A lot of coffee.

You fall asleep at the dining table waiting for Emily to wake up. You attempted to read the book Brittany was reading yesterday, but it just ends up being a makeshift pillow for you.

Emily wakes you up by poking your arm. You slowly rise from sleep and look down at her. You know that Brittany didn't have her, but if you ran into her on the street, you would swear up and down that Emily was Brittany's.

You don't feel like cooking so you get the kid dressed and you two walk to a small bodega down the street. On the way you light up a cigarette. Emily doesn't waste a second before piping in.

"Brittany said that people shouldn't smoke. It's bad for them."

"Some people do things that they know are bad for them," You exhale a long stream of smoke in the opposite direction of the kid.

"Why would they do that?"

You shrug and discard the cigarette in a nearby ashtray before walking into the store with her. You look around the store, "What does Brittany like to eat?"

"I dunno. She usually does laundry or something while I'm eating, unless you're there," she states, looking around at all the fruits and foods.

You look down at her, "Well what do you like to eat."

"P, B, B and J," she tells you with a wide grin.

You let out a small smile, "You know I taught Brittany how to make those."

"She told me." Emily's blonde hair bounces when she nods.

You can't help, but wonder, "Did she tell you a lot about me before you came here?"

"Mhmm."

After you grab a few essentials you head back to the apartment. You make breakfast and play with Emily for a few hours. Then you take her to buy some decorations for her bedroom. She gets some framed pictures of dancers to put on the wall as well as a large mirror to watch herself.

You put everything up in her room when you get back and after lunch she dances until she passes out on her bed. You leave the music on and go to your bedroom. You could definitely use a nap.

A warm hand on your back wakes you up. You don't know how long you got to sleep, but you definitely feel better.

"She wore you out huh?" Brittany's soft voice asks.

You look up and find that she's the one that's rubbing your back tenderly. She's sitting on the bed, facing you an adoring smile on her face.

You nod and turn your head in the opposite direction. You don't want to look at her while she's touching you, but you don't want her to stop touching you. As her hand lazily trails up and down your back, you relax and panic at the same time. You shouldn't want this. You should want to get away as fast as possible.

She is either ignoring your obvious comfort/discomfort combo or is oblivious. You're sure it's the former because when it comes to you Brittany is rarely oblivious. "Do you have work tonight?"

"No I changed my schedule," you state, "I don't work on Tuesday or Thursday nights anymore just in case you have like late rehearsal or something."

You feel her shift around on the bed and suddenly her body is pressed to your back and her arm is around your waist. You clench your fist trying to make yourself not want this. There has never been a second in your life when you didn't want Brittany. You want her more than you can say, but you can't be with her. You don't deserve her and she deserves way more than you.

"Britt," you clench out trying to get to her realize that you need her to back off.

"Go on a date with me," she says, her lips brushing against your ear.

You shake your head, "No."

"I'll ask again tomorrow," she states and sits up, "I'm going to go make dinner." You feel her leave the bed and hear her muted footsteps on the floor as she leaves the room.

She's going to be the death of you. You're going to implode from the chaotic emotions rioting inside you. Especially if she doesn't stop the cuddling.

You sleep most of the next day and go to work right when Brittany and Emily get home. Brittany gives you a lingering hug and asks you out again. You tell her no. Again.

Now you're sitting in the park with Emily, trying to decide what to do when she asks.

"Do you think Brittany is pretty?" Emily asks out of nowhere.

You nod, "She's very pretty." It's crazy easy to be honest with this kid. You like it because you know she won't judge you.

Emily looks away from the dog she was watching and looks up at you, "And you think she's nice?"

You nod again, "Mhmm."

"Why won't you go on a date with her?" The question is simple, but oh so loaded.

You quirk your eyebrow, "You don't think that's weird?"

She wrinkles her nose, "Not unless you eat lizards or something on your date."

"No I mean that she dated…Richie and now she wants to date me." You don't know what Brittany's been telling Emily or what Richie told Emily before that.

But her answer is simple and to the point as something else catches her attention, "No."

"Why not?" you have to ask.

"Brittany said that it's not weird if you love someone and they love you back. Then she told me I'm not allowed to date 'til I'm thirty."

You chuckle, "What do you think?"

"About what?"

"About me and Britt dating."

"I think that if you love Brittany you should cause she loves you."

"How do you know she loves me?"

"She said so."

You nod, "Did she tell you we dated before?"

"Yup. Can we get a hot dog?"

You get her a hot dog and decide to chance the subject, "What do you want to get Brittany for her birthday?" It's coming up in a few days as Brittany reminded you when she asked you out this morning. She wants a date for her birthday.

"Can we take her somewhere nice to eat?"

If you take Emily, it's not a date right? "Sure."

You both walk around for a little bit enjoying the sun and the cool wind. Emily takes you hand and asks, "Do you know Quinn?"

That catches you completely off guard, pretty much like everything else she asks, but this especially, "Yeah, do you?"

"Yeah I met her one time at the beach. Brittany talked with her on the phone yesterday. Brittany said she's nice and she's going to watch me when she gets you to go on a date with her." Emily's smile is sneaky.

You smile at Brittany's confidence. It'll take more than that, but it makes you feel good that she's trying so hard.

You look down at the little girl and ask when her birthday is. She rattles off a date not even a month after Brittany's. "What do you want for your birthday?" you ask.

"I want Brittany to be my mommy."

You find that incredibly sweet. You wonder about custody. You're sure the note Richie left isn't a legal document and you know that assholes like that can change their minds just because he wants to be an ass. You don't want that for Emily or Brittany. You make up your mind right then what you're going to get Brittany for her birthday.

Of course Brittany doesn't know where Richie went and you don't ask more than once, vaguely at that. She shrugged and you're sure she could care less, but you need to know. A few afternoons of phone calls tell you where he is. You actually talk to him and he is as much of a prick as you guessed him to be. He's going to be in New York for a few days and you get him to meet you at the club during the day. It's not actually your shift but the girls don't mind. It's a slow day.

Richie's actually sort of cute and you can see why Brittany was initially attracted to him. You have one of the girls, who also happens to be a notary present him with the papers you got after a very expensive trip to an adoption attorney, while you're dancing.

All he wants in exchange for custody rights of his daughter is a lap dance. You have trouble not pummeling him immediately. He doesn't know you but he's willing to hand Emily over to you for a fucking lap dance.

You tried like hell not to gag the entire time, while reminding yourself that you're doing it for Brittany and Emily. Your body went into autopilot as you remembered how they looked when you got home the other night, both asleep in Emily's bed. They belong together. Richie was a shitty guy, but if you were religious you'd know that someone laid a hand on them to bring Brittany and Emily together.

You knew that one of the girls was a notary public before you called Richie here. Getting him to sign was easy. Sasha notarized it and everything was legal. You took it to the lawyer that afternoon and he looked over it, making a few changes and telling you to bring it back when Brittany signed it.

It's been about a week of work, but the night of Brittany's birthday everything is ready. You made reservations at a nice restaurant in Midtown and bought Emily a new dress to wear.

Brittany is surprised when she gets home early from work and you and Emily are dressed up. You instruct her to get ready as well. Emily even pushes her into the bedroom and helps her pick out what to wear.

You're in a tight dress which is pretty much the only kind you own. It's a deep red that you love and when Brittany steps out in a black dress with a thigh high slit, you think you may die.

She gives you a bashful smile and a shrug, "Em picked it out."

You check your mouth for drool before answering, "You look great."

Emily takes both of your hands and drags you toward the door, "C'mon we're going to be late."

Both Brittany and Emily are impressed with your choice of restaurant. It's upscale, but still accommodating to the tiny humans. You all sit at a round booth with Emily between you and Brittany.

"What can I get you ladies?" the waiter asks with a charming smile.

You order a glass of champagne for Brittany and a chocolate milk for Emily. You get water because you're going to let your girls let loose tonight. You do realize that you just called them your girls in your head and you mentally scold yourself for it. They're not yours.

When the waiter returns with your drinks he asks for your food order.

"Chicken Marsala," Brittany said after you prompt her. It's her birthday. She gets to go first.

Emily grins up at the man and tells him that she wants spaghetti. You order a pesto agnolotti before he thanks you all and walks away. Emily tells Brittany about her day in the time it takes for the food to come out.

After Brittany cut up Emily's pasta and you made sure her drink wasn't too close to the edge, Emily asks, "When can we give her, her present?"

You smile, "After dinner."

Brittany looks from Emily to you and holds your eyes, "You guys shouldn't have gotten me a present."

You don't answer. You just shrug dismissively.

"Last year we went and got ice cream for Brittany's birthday. Then we watched the Little Mermaid," Emily informs you.

You quirk an eyebrow at Brittany. You're not going to ask where Richie was or what he got her. You already know the answers. He wasn't there and he didn't get her anything. You catch yourself scanning the restaurant making sure that Richie isn't anywhere around. You doubt this is his kind of place, but if you see him you'll promptly show him the nearest exit before Brittany or Emily know he's there. You'll feel better once you know he's left town.

You ask Brittany about work and the other dancers. She answers all the questions with a smile and you two continue to catch up over the course of your dinner. When the tiramisu comes out Brittany grins at you with a wide smile. It's her favorite and you ordered it when she took Emily to the bathroom to wash her hands.

You pay the check not even giving Brittany the option of even looking at it. When the waiter walks off, Emily is already digging in your purse for Brittany's present. She retrieves the small box. When she shoves it at Brittany, she announces, "I picked it out."

Brittany carefully takes the box in her hands and unwraps it. Her eyes flicker to you when she feels the black velvet box under her fingers. You can feel Emily vibrating her seat next to you, waiting to see Brittany's reaction.

When she flips open the box, a watery smile spreads across her face. After you talked Emily out of an _I heart Dance_ necklace then a set of plastic bracelets that you found out Emily actually wanted for herself (you bought them for her), Emily found this beautiful, simple necklace. It's a fine silver chair with a small pendant hanging on it. The pendant is a made of two dancers, woman and a little girl holding hands. It reminds you of all the nights you spend watching them glide across the bare living room floor, completely lost in the music.

Brittany hugs Emily and kisses her head before looking across the table at you. "Thank you so much Santana."

You shrug it off again. "Emily picked it out."

Brittany rolls her eyes at your deflection and puts on her necklace. It hangs perfectly on her neck, resting softly against her chest. You avert your eyes when you realize that you've been starting at the 'pendant' for quite some time. Brittany laughs while you blush.

Emily is asleep by the time you get home so you put her to bed and make your way to the bedroom to change. Brittany is already in a t-shirt and sleeping shorts, sitting on the bed.

You take your clothes into the bathroom and brush your teeth as well as change clothes. When you come out Brittany is sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, playing with her fingers. She smiles up at you and says, "Thanks for tonight. Tonight meant a lot to me."

You smile softly at her and walk to your purse, "I got you something else."

"Really? Like a date?" she asks, hopefully.

You chuckle and pull out her real present, "No. It's much more important." You hand her the envelope. She looks it over and takes the stack of papers out.

It takes a second, but when she realizes what they are tears fill her eyes and she throws her arms around your neck, "Thank you so much." She's on her knees on the bed and you're still standing, your bodies pressed together. You hold her around the waist because the moment calls for it. When she pulls back to look them over, your arms ache to hold her again.

You shake your head at yourself and sit down on the bed, with your back against the wall where normal people would have a headboard. You go over the custody papers together and she leans into you the whole time. You allow it because she hasn't stopped crying since you gave it to her.

She hops off of the bed and returns with a pen. You're surprised when your name is printed below hers.

You look at her as she scoots closer to you, "What are you doing?"

"I know you're not, like ready to be her guardian right now, but if something happens to me…I want you to have her."

"Britt I-"

Her blue eyes meet yours and they're pleading with you, "You'll take care of her and she can't go to a foster home. She doesn't have anyone but us."

"Nothing's going to happen to you." You say that because you're not sure that you could handle life, much less a kid if something happened to Brittany.

"Please San."

You sigh and nod, "Okay." She hands you the pen and you sign your name under where she printed it. She kisses your cheek and signs her own name, "This is the best birthday ever."

You put the papers back into the envelope and then place them safely in your purse so that you can take them to the courthouse tomorrow so it's all legal.

"You know what else I want for my birthday?" she adds quietly in the dark of the bedroom after you've turned off the lights and curls up on your side of the bed.

You think you know but you ask her anyway, "What?"

"Will you…sing to me?" she asks hesitantly.

You swallow hard. That's definitely not what you thought it would be. You were sure she was going to ask you out on a date where you could just laugh it off, but this is so much harder for you. If she wants you to sing one of the songs you sang to her while you were dating that meant so much to you, that means accessing those feelings. You can't sing those songs without opening yourself up. So you ask, "My Headband?"

She giggles, but doesn't say yes. Instead she says, "Songbird."

That's what you were scared of. You don't think you've ever sung or even listened to that song without crying. When she adds a low "please," you can't say no.

You stand from the bed and in the dark walk over to the far wall.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"I'm going to…to sing from over here, okay?" you ask, clasping your hands together.

You eyes are adjusting to the dark and you can see her sitting up in the bed. "Okay," she says and just watches your outline in the dark.

"I haven't…sung in a long time," you admit.

"It's okay," she assures you.

Finally after a deep breath you start singing.

_For you, there'll be no more crying_

_For you, the sun will be shining_

_And I feel that when I'm with you_

_It's alright, I know it's right_

You can already feel the tears accumulating in your eyes. You can already feel the emotions start to overthrow you. You can already feel way too much.

_To you, I'll give the world_

_To you, I'll never be cold_

_'Cause I feel that when I'm with you_

_It's alright, I know it's right_

_And the songbirds are singing,_

_Like they know the score,_

_And I love you, I love you, I love you,_

_Like never before._

_And I wish you all the love in the world,_

_But most of all, I wish it from myself_

You don't know if you can even finish. Your voice is now low and raspy, struggling to escape as you choke back a sob.

_And the songbirds are singing,_

_Like they know the score,_

_And I love you, I love you, I love you,_

_Like never before._

The second you finish the song, Brittany is out of the bed and standing in front of you. You reach up to wipe off your face, but she takes you hand and pulls it back down. Her arms make their way to encircle your waist. "Thank you," she whispers.

Your arms do what comes natural and hold her back. You close your eyes and bury your face in her neck. She smells so fucking amazing and the way she holds you….

You feel like you have two options. You could cry in her arms all night or you could do what you do best. Your arms start to fight you when you pull away, but you win out and wrap your arms around yourself.

She seems to know what you're doing and she puts her hand on your forearm, "Please don't leave."

You finally open your eyes and you can see her cheeks are wet with tears as well. A few seconds ago your foot was already out the door, but now you can't seem to move.

She tugs your arms loose and hugs you again, this time only briefly. Then she snags your pinkie with her own and pulls you to the bed. Once under the covers you curl into yourself and scoot as far away from her as possible.

Even though you're facing away from her, you can feel Brittany's eyes boring into your back. You try to ignore it and go back to sleep. She speaks a few seconds later "This really is the best birthday ever."

"That's sad," you retort.

She huffs, "I'm serious Santana."

You sigh, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she answers, "But thank you. For everything."

"No problem," you mumble against your pillow, willing this conversation to end. You lay awake until you hear her deep, quiet breaths permeate throughout the room.

You roll onto your other side and just watch her. She's so close, but you can't let her break you down. She needs to stay away from you. She doesn't understand the horrible things you could do to her; the things you could drag her into.

Her silhouette in the dark is the last thing you see before you slip off into sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

When you wake up in the morning, there's a warmth pressed against your back. You blink into alertness and take into account the size and shape of the mass before deciding that Emily must have had a bad dream and came into your room last night to sleep between you and Brittany.

You sit up and find that you were right. Brittany's still asleep on the other end of the bed and Emily is pressed against your back, her blonde hair falling all over her face.

When you get out of bed, you try not to wake her up, but her bright eyes pop open the second you get out of bed. She mumbles something incoherent before rolling to the other end of the bed and snuggling into Brittany. The older blonde rests a protective arm over Emily even in her sleep and you can feel the symphony of butterfly wings beat in your stomach.

You run to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You turn on the shower and climb in. As the hot water beats on your back, you rest your forehead on the cold tile. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, damn it damn it, shit, shit," you murmur over and over again against the wall. You shouldn't be up this early because you had a late night last night with Brittany and Emily at Brittany's birthday dinner. Then with all the singing and crying you should still be asleep, but you can't because when you wake up and she's there, you either want to wrap your arms around her or run away and you're not strong enough to let yourself hold her.

When the water runs cold you get out and walk into the living room. The girls are still asleep, so you go into the living room and lay down in the middle of the floor. There's a crack in the ceiling that's only about five inches long, but the longer you stare at it, the longer it seems to get. Your eyes are playing tricks on you and you just continue to stare at the ceiling.

"Is she dead?" you hear Emily whisper. You must have fallen asleep on the floor because your eyes are now closed. When you open them the crack in the ceiling is hidden behind Brittany's head. Her eyes are questioning with a tinge of worry.

Emily grins at you, "You're not dead."

You shake your head and sit up. You're not dead, but you have the worst headache. Stupid hardwood floors.

"Are you okay?" Brittany asks, after she sends Emily to get dressed. "How long have you been out here?"

You stretch you back and shrug, "No idea, but we need a couch."

She frowns at this and carefully asks, "Do you want to sleep out here?"

You don't want to answer because she looks so wounded at the thought. You just duck your head and stand up. "Do you want coffee?"

With a deep sigh she nods, "Sure."

When Brittany and Emily leave, you leave a few minutes later. You spend most of the day in a seedy bar, taking shots, smoking cigarettes, and doing coke in the bathroom. Tomorrow is Saturday which means Brittany has the day off and she and Emily will be home. You don't know how you're going to handle it. You figure that if you stay out all night and come in around nine in the morning that Brittany will be up and out of bed so you can shut yourself in the bedroom.

This all works fantastically until you're completely exhausted at three in the morning. You really don't want to have to sleep next to Brittany today or tonight…whatever. So you ask one of the girls if you can crash on her couch. When she smiles you immediately know that you should have asked someone else. Kelly has had a not so secret crush on you since you can remember and you think she just heard you ask if you could have sex.

You really, really just wanted to sleep, but Kelly's not too bad with her hands and has the decency to let you shower afterwards. You hope she doesn't think you're like married now or anything. The last thing you need is some bat shit crazy bitch following you around because she thinks one night stand equals everlasting love.

And now you feel like you can't go home. You can't look at Brittany after you just let another girl touch you. You feel guilty even though you were drunk and high and you can't remember most of it. And oh yeah, you're not with Brittany. You have no reason to feel guilty, but you do.

You manage to get back to your apartment at nine and you find the entire apartment empty. You're thankful for that and stop hiding the bottle of vodka in your bag. You fall into the bed with the bottle in your hand and manage to finish most of it before passing out.

The bottle being ripped from your hand wakes you up. You groan and squint at the light before seeing Brittany pour the contents of the bottle into the sink in the bathroom. You barely register the empty baggie laying right under the toilet before Brittany wheels around and advances on you.

"What is wrong with you?" she demands. Her hands are on her hips and as cute as she is, you have a hard time finding her threatening.

You pull the blanket over your head and attempt to roll over before she yanks the covers off.

"You need to stop this! We have a kid."

You know it was wrong to say right before you say it, but there's a watery vodka lake between your brain and your mouth, "She's not my kid. Fuck she's not even your kid."

"She _is_ my kid," Brittany states in a low rumble. And you know this. Emotionally, legally, in pretty much every way there is Emily is Brittany's.

You sit up to add something, but the sitting up causes a riot in your stomach so you run to the toilet where you barf in what was left of the cocaine Brittany apparently flushed down the toilet. She's been busy since she got home. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "Well there's no 'we' or 'us'. There's you two and there's me." You sit up and try to ward off her worried gaze with a look of indifference.

She rolls her eyes, "Oh just shut up."

You widen your eyes and would get up to square off with her if you could, "Excuse me?"

"I said shut up. There's never not been an us." Her face is hard but her eyes are soft and you can see that she's fighting tears. You wish she wouldn't look at you when you're like this. You wish she'd go away and not care so much. You don't want her to love you. You don't deserve it.

She sits down on the floor next to you and pulls you into her. You willing fall into her side, knowing that fighting it will result in more vomit.

"Why are you like this?" Brittany asks quietly, "Why do you do this because last night was…amazing. You were so sweet and so nice. I love you Santana and you're scaring me."

You close your eyes, fighting the tears that you know are going to win. "Why do you even care? I'm a fuck up."

"You're not a fuck up," she drops an acid kiss on your forehead. "And I care because I love you San. You're my one and only."

"Don't say that," you feel her arms hold your around your waist as your head lulls onto her shoulder, "I'm not. I can't be."

"If I can't say it, can I sing it?" she asks with a smile that you know she's using to make you feel better.

It does help a little bit and she helps you to the sink where you brush your teeth and wash your face. She kisses your forehead again when she lays you in the bed and it burns just like the first one did. You can feel the first crumble of your walls tumble down to the ground. It's those kisses. They're deadly.

She sits at the foot of the bed and lightly trails a finger up and down your calf muscle. "Go on a date with me?"

You shake your head against the pillow and she doesn't argue. You know she's just going to keep accepting your 'no's and ask again later. You wonder how long it will take until she gets tired of asking and just stops altogether. That day scares you. If it ever comes you know that you'll have lost the person in the world that cares about you the most.

But you can't stop pushing her away. Holding her at arm's length. You know that she's not lying when she says that she loves you, but you can't let your feelings go. Her mother gave you a long list of reasons why you don't deserve her and if you have enough time you could write down everything on the list. She was right and you are too. Brittany deserves so much more than you'll ever be.

"But I want you," she states.

You didn't realize that you were talking out loud. You close your eyes and try to figure out how much exactly that you said out loud. You quirk a sad eyebrow and ask, "Don't you want anyone else?"

She shakes her head without hesitation. You open your mouth again to try and talk her out of it but she interrupts you, "I'll wait." She kisses her fingers before resting them on your lips. "I'm going to go get you some crackers."

She returns with the crackers, but you're half asleep. She doesn't seem to mind because she just sets the crackers and some water on the floor next to the bed before walking out of the bedroom and closing the door.

Of course you can't really go to sleep after that talk so you sip on the water and nibble on the crackers before getting out of bed. After a shower and a change of clothes you walk out of the bedroom to find the living room empty. You can hear Brittany though. It sounds like she's reading to Emily in her bedroom, so you get some more water and sit at the table, not wanting to interrupt them.

You cross your arms on the table rest your chin on your forearms. You stare at your water and try to decide what to do for the rest of the day. This whole not having a TV thing is seriously freeing up way too much of your time.

Soft fingers brush some hair away from you face, "You okay?"

You sit up and nod to Brittany who has taken a seat across the table from you. "Yeah."

"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" she asks.

"No," you answer honestly, "Do you guys wanna go get pizza or something?"

"I'll go ask," Brittany slides off of her chair, "But she's never said no to pizza before."

After an uneventful lunch/dinner at the pizza place, you all go back to the apartment. You go to the bedroom to hang up your jacket and you stop.

"What's wrong?" Brittany asks when she finds that you've been standing in the doorway for over five minutes.

"You need a headboard," you state.

"For what?" she purrs and brushes past you to hang up her own jacket.

You know her mind dove right into the gutter and yours is quick to follow. You shake your head and walk into the living room, "I'm just saying that the room looks empty."

"Okay," Brittany follows you into the kitchen where you lean on the counter and she gets a glass of water, "We can go furniture shopping tomorrow. I just got the money from selling the house in Lima."

Furniture shopping seems so couple-y. But of course so does sleeping in the same bed and raising a kid together. As long as you're not actually dating or sleeping together you figure that you can do things like that without falling into some kind of trap. You nod to her, "Okay."

She smiles broadly and takes your hand, "Will you go on a date with me?"

You just cock your head and raise an eyebrow. She laughs and slips her arms around your waist. "I'll ask again later." After the brief hug, she's gone, walking to Emily's room.

How can you not fall in love with her more every time you reject her and she says that she just ask again later? She knows what she's doing and you don't find it fair at all.

During one of the days where you're not keeping Emily, you're putting together nightstands that didn't get a matching headboard because neither one of you could find one that you liked. You get a text from Brittany. It's simple and just has the word 'Lunch?' with the location typed in next to it.

You decide that it might not hurt. You always love watching Emily eat the nachos there because she usually ends up wearing most of it. So you get dressed and walk into the restaurant, seeing Brittany's blonde hair sticking up from one of the smaller tables.

You sit down across from her and she smiles at you. You look around and find no sign of Emily, "Where's Em?"

"At school," Brittany states, "It's her first day remember?"

You nod, vaguely remembering that you made Emily breakfast in half-sleep after a double shift at the club. "It's only on Mondays and Wednesdays?"

Brittany nods, "Then she has dance after it."

"Do you need me to keep her Fridays then?" you ask, looking over the menu. Everything looks so appetizing because you haven't eaten since lunch yesterday.

"No," Brittany answers setting her menu down, "I'll still have her with me."

After you both order your food, Brittany grins at you until you catch her. She looks away guiltily and then it clicks for you.

"Wait," you eye her, "Is this a date?"

Her eyes are shifty and there's a coy smile on her face, "No?"

"Britt," you sigh. You start to stand up, but she takes your hand and pulls you back down.

"C'mon San. Just stay for lunch. It can be a friend date," she pleads and gives you her best puppy dog eyes. Sad thing is, is that you know she really wants to spend this time with you. The sadder thing is that you want it just as much if not more than she does.

"Fine," you sit back down and pick up a tortilla chip.

A few minutes into the lunch and you've received your drinks. Brittany swirls her water around in her glass and takes a sip, "My mom sent me money so that me and Emily can go visit her. You should come."

"Oh yeah, me and your mom get along great," you roll your eyes.

"You don't have to stay with us," Brittany shrugs, "We can drop you off at your parent's house."

"I get along better with your mom," you sigh and keep your eyes on the table. You don't want to talk about parents. You don't even want to talk about Lima or any one in, from or around it.

"When was the last time you took some time off?" Brittany asks.

"Since when is my job any kind of stressful?" you ask, "I wear a sparkly bra and shake my ass."

"I wish you wouldn't say it like that," she looks at her fingers.

"Why not?" you ask, "That's the majority of what I do."

Brittany flips her hair out of her eyes, "Because it's more than that. It's actual dancing and you're good at it. Who cares what you're wearing?"

It takes you a minute to absorb what she said, but when you realize it, your eyes zone in on her. "How do you know I'm good at it?" you narrow your eyes, but the second she averts her gaze from you, you know. "Oh god Britt, you came?"

"Just once," she says.

"Where was Emily?"

"With Quinn."

"Oh shit did you tell Quinn where you were going? Does she know where I work?"

"No," she shakes her head, "I just wanted to see it. I wanted to see you."

Fantastic. Fucking fantastic. You drop your head into your hands. You never wanted her to see you like that. Showing anyone who would pay your body. "Fuck Brittany."

"It's not a big deal," she states, "You're a dancer."

"I'm a stripper."

"Same thing. And you're a great dancer. If you wanted to make a lot less money and have less people watch you, you could work with me."

"I'm not as good as you."

"Well no. You'd be a backup dancer in my company, but you're still better that all the backup dancers in New York. You could be a lead in a different company."

You get quiet, trying to process the information that Brittany has been to the club and has seen you perform. She's seen you mostly naked while drunken businessmen put twenties into your thong.

She reaches across the table and takes your hand. Your eyes shoot up to her and she's biting her lip, nervously. She takes a deep breath, "I love you Santana. I really do. No matter what you do."

You take your hand back and rest it in your lap. "I just never wanted you to see that."

"I'm sorry," she bows her head, "I knew I should have asked, but you really are an amazing dancer."

You don't want her to be sad so you lean back in your chair and tell her that it's okay. You turn back to your food and silently eat.

"So do you want to go to Lima with us?" Brittany asks, "You can see Abuelo. I bet he'd love to see you."

You set your fork down and take a long sip of water, "You know you don't play fair right?"

A grin grows on her face and a twinkle appears in her eyes. Yeah, she knows it.


	7. Chapter 7

You can't believe you're on this stupid flight on the way back to that stupid town. At least you'll get to see your Abuelo, maybe take him to the store and get him some new clothes or something.  
>Emily is bouncing up and down in her seat and Brittany looks like she's about to hyperventilate. For someone usually so calm in any situation, when she gets on an airplane she freaks out. It's all internal of course. She forces smiles at Emily while shooting you panicked looks. When you start to take off, Emily amuses the people all around by squealing 'weeee'.<p>

You glance at Brittany whose eyes are closed. Finally you reach around Emily and take Brittany's hand, her fingers thread through yours and if she wasn't hurting your hand so bad with her tight grip this would make you uncomfortable.

Finally when you're in the air and Emily is leaning over you, staring out the window at the disappearing city, Brittany loosens her grip on your hand, but she doesn't let go.

About ten minutes into the flight, Emily is asleep with her head in your lap. Brittany is reading one of her books, but she hasn't let go of your hand and you can't bring yourself to let go. The pages of the book are wavering as her hand trembles. She's been on the same page since she opened up the book seven minutes ago.

You allow her to hold your hand for the remainder of the flight, mostly because your intertwined hands are now tucked under Emily's arm. She's a flailer in her sleep as you have learned the hard way and she flung her arm over your hands a few seconds after she passed out. You don't want to wake her up. Yeah that's it.

"Where do you want to go?" Brittany asks as she buckles Emily into the backseat of the rental car. "You can just can just drop us off at my mom's house and take the car if you don't want to stay."

"Actually I was hoping that your mom wouldn't know that I'm even still alive," you state, turning on the car, "Much less in the same zip code as her."

Brittany sighs and closes the back door. When she gets into the passenger's seat she look over at you, "Can I call you tonight? We'll take you to Breadstix."

"When you say we you mean…?" you pull out of the parking lot, trying to maintain eye contact with the road.

"Me and Emily," Brittany states, "Maybe Mandy too."

You roll your eyes, "Like your mom would let your little sister hang around me."

Brittany reaches across the seats and puts her hand on your hand. You grip the steering wheel a little tighter as you get onto the highway into Lima. "My mom is wrong and Mandy can go wherever she wants, okay? She's been asking about you."

"Really?" you ask. Mandy was like a little sister to you when you were in high school. Seeing her again would be sort of nice.

Brittany nods, "Totally." She retracts her hand and leans back in her seat. After a quick glance at Emily who is looking out the window, she looks straight ahead, "Emily could stay with Mandy for a few hours and we could go on a date."

You smirk and shake your head, "No." You like the way that she's been slipping these date invitations in to conversations. She's gotten really good at it, but she's not going to catch you. The second the word 'date' comes out of her mouth, the word 'no' comes out of yours.

"You're going to say yes," Brittany looks over at you with a coy grin, "You might as well say yes now." She's in a great mood and it's hard for it not to catch onto you.

"I think New York has made you cocky," you stop at a red light and look over at her.

She grins and leans forward, getting ridiculously close to you. You can feel her breath on your lips and goosebumps run the length of your body. Her lips are dangerously close. The only thing you can hear is the pounding of blood rushing through your ears. Your brain doesn't even have the functionality to tell you that this is a horrible compromising position.

But a horn going off behind you. You quickly straighten up in your seat and take off. She's not playing fair again. You grumble to yourself and she giggles in her seat.

You don't have much time to dwell on Brittany's lack of rules when it comes to winning you over. By the time you pull to a stop in front of the Pierce house, you're a nervous wreck. You stay in the car as Brittany opens her door and helps Emily out. You try not to look toward the house just in case Brittany's mom appears and you accidentally make eye contact. You might turn to ice or something. But you find that this is impossible, when you see Mandy walking toward the car. She's grown up a lot since you last saw her, but she has the same kind eyes as her big sister. She beckons you out of the car and pulls you into a hug as soon as you open the door.

"Santana!" she smiles, "It's been forever. How's my favorite sister-in-law?" You look at her perplexed and she rolls her eyes, "Fine how's my favorite non-sister-in-law?"

"I'm doing good," you say and look her over, "How are you?"

"Captain of the Cheerios," she laughs, "It's so much fun. One of our International competitions is in New York. We should totally hang out."

You wonder what Cheerios she's on. Fun is not something you think of when you remember your time in Sue Sylvester's Cheerios. You nod to her suggestion though. Hanging out with her in New York does seem like a viable idea, "Yeah that would be fun."

She grins and hugs you again before Emily runs up to her calling, "Aunt Mandy!"

Mandy scoops her up and twirls her around, singing her name.

Brittany walks over to you and puts her hand on your back, "I'll call you in a few hours okay? I want to take Abuelo to dinner."

You lean back on the car and put your hands in your pockets, "Really?"

She smiles at you and nods, "I miss him too." She gives you a brief kiss on your cheek and walks over to Mandy and Emily.

You turn to get back into the car when you hear Emily shout your name. You turn around and fall backward into the car at the sheer force of Emily's embrace. You kneel down to her level and look at her pouted face. "What's wrong baby girl?" you ask, straightening her dress.

"You're not coming?" she asks.

You glance up at Brittany and Mandy who are leaning on each other, watching you. Then behind them you see the curtain the house move. You know it's their mom. You can feel it. The air gets suddenly colder.

You look down at Emily with her little blonde curls. "Not this time. I'll come back to pick you up so we can take my Abuelo to dinner."

"Abuelo?" she asks her cute little eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

"My grandpa," you smile at her.

She wraps her little arms around her neck and squeezes, "I love you 'Tana."

That statement pierces your heart like an arrow. You swallow your emotions and tell her that you love her too. She kisses your cheek and runs back to Brittany.

You stay knelt down and look up at Brittany. She has tears in her eyes as well. You both know how deeply Emily's words affected you. She walks back over to you and pulls you to your feet.

"Where are you going to go?" she asks.

You shrug, "Probably to my Abuelo's house."

"You should go see your mom," she gives you a lingering hug, "And you dad. I bet they want to see you."

You shove your hands into your pockets again, not sure what else to do with them and look down, "I doubt it. The only people that want to see me are five years old and seventy years old."

"I love to see you too," Brittany gives pulls your hand out of your pocket and gives it a squeeze, "I'll call you."

You nod and watch her, Mandy and Emily walk into the house. Emily waves at you and you wave back before getting in your car.

When you get to your Abuelo's house it's all hugs and smiles. He pulls you inside to show you the bathroom that he remodeled on his own. Then he offers to make you lunch. You decline telling him that you already ate, but it's a lie. You just lost your appetite right before you dropped Brittany and Emily off.

You do however get him to go with you to the mall to just 'walk around'. He's able and can get out of the house all his own, but you always feel like you need to take care of him. To take him out and get him things or just get him out of the house.

"What about this?" he smiles and picks up an Ed Hardy shirt, placing it over his chest. A crazy grin on his face and two thumbs up make you laugh. He replaced the shirt and he puts his arm around your shoulders, "How are you doing mija?"

You tighten the grip on your purse strap and lie, "Great."

"Don't bullshit me," he says with a knowingly arched eyebrow.

With a sigh, you scratch your head, "I've been kinda…lost I guess." You sit down with him in a coffee shop a few minutes later and you tell him the whole Brittany/Emily/Brittany's mom mess. You leave out the stripper and cocaine parts, but the drinking and smoking are out in the open. You've never really be able to keep much from him. He knows what happened with Brittany and high school. He knows what it took for you to find yourself then. He knows you better than your own parents do.

He looks across the table from you a stoic look on his face. His arms are crossed and his eyebrows are furrowed. "You know I'm not happy with her mother at this juncture correct?"

You nod. You look down at the table, "I just…" You give up on coherent thoughts because you've pretty much already put it all out there, "I dunno."

"I think that if you love Brittany like you did in high school or at least you feel a little something of that love remaining, that you should at least go on a date with her and see how it goes," he offers.

Your reaction is automatic and immediate, "No. I can't. I'm not-"

"You're not what?" he asks, almost daring you to answer.

With a deep swallow you mumble, "Not good enough."

He leans forward, "Santana Lopez, you look at me right now." Your eyes snap up to meet his. "You deserve to be happy and I don't think Brittany would ask you out on a date if it wouldn't make her happy too."

You lean back in your chair and wrap both of your hands around your cup. You're quiet, hoping that he'll forget about what you were talking about or maybe just hoping that you can teleport yourself somewhere else if you want it hard enough and shit you want it so bad.

"You're a beautiful, smart girl Santana," he tells you, "I wish you wouldn't sell yourself short."

You decide that this is a depressing conversation so you change the subject, "Brittany and Emily want to take us to dinner tonight."

A smile crawls across his face, "That's great. I've always wanted great grandchildren." You frown at him and his rolls his eyes, "The way you talk about her, she's just as much yours as she is Brittany's."

When Brittany calls you, you managed to get your Abuelo to let you buy a couple shirts for him and a pair of (what you deem) ridiculous old man pants. He banters back by telling you that he is an old man.

"Hey are you guys ready?" Brittany asks. She doesn't sound like herself. She sounds angry.

You frown and add, "Yeah, we're ready. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she states. Now she's forcing her voice to be chipper. "Take your time. We'll be playing in the front yard."

You find that a little suspicious, but you don't want to ask in front of Abuelo. You ask him if he's ready to go.

"I have enough clothes for the next year," he holds up his meager, single bag with a laugh, "I'm ready for anything."

You drive back to the Pierce house, this time a little less nervous because you have Abuelo with you. He starts to get out and you ask him to please not go to the house. You know he's itching to tell Brittany's mom off, but you want this trip to be as drama free as a trip to Lima can be so you plead with him not to do anything.

He crosses his arms in his seat and tells you in Spanish that he wants to give that woman a piece of his mind. You tell him in Spanish that if he keeps giving away pieces of his mind, he's not going to have anything left but the senile parts left. He laughs at this as Brittany opens the backseat.

"Brittany!" he says, getting out of the car anyway.

You bang your head on the steering wheel a couple times praying that he doesn't try to make a break for the front door. It wouldn't be the first time. But when you look back, Emily is climbing in and Brittany and Abuelo are hugging.

"Is that Ob-way-low?" Emily over-enunciates in a whisper and makes you smile.

You nod, "Yup."

"He looks nice," she says, sizing him up.

You chuckle, "He's the nicest and he knows the best stories."

Emily grins and nods in approval before falling back into her seat.

You seem to remember the breadsticks at Breadstix being better. Of course you've been eating New York cuisine for years and now you guess chain Italian food isn't all the great since you've been eating the authentic stuff.

Abuelo and Emily are having a very animated conversation at their end of the table. He must be telling one of his famous stories that he usually makes up on the spot because he has Emily's rapt attention.

Brittany's looking down at her water, a light frown on her face. You tap her with your foot under the table and when she looks up you ask, "What's wrong?"

Her eyes dart to Emily and then back as she shakes her head, "I'll tell you later."

You give her a disapproving look, but she just offers you a small smile. The way her eyes soften makes you fell a heat run through your body. Being a dancer Brittany's the master of her body and knows it better than most people know theirs. This girl knows how to convey any type of emotion across her features with ease. Her look now? It says: _Thanks for caring_.

You look away. You don't want her to think you care too much. It'll only encourage her. Of course the whole, raising a kid with her (yes you've accepted that you are helping her raise Emily) kinda shows you care a whole lot. Your lack of effort to actually go out and buy the couch that you keep talking about probably doesn't help your case either. The fact that you fall asleep better in a bed, knowing that just mere hours ago she occupied the same space, her warm skin brushing against the sheets that you then occupy….you're not helping yourself. You're really not. Because you know that every time she asks you on a date your heart flutters because it shows that she cares enough about you to put herself out there. Because you know that every time she asks, you get closer and closer to saying yes.

You pull apart a breadstick as you think. You want her. There's not really been a point in your life where you didn't. You love her. You know it, deep down, even though you won't admit it. It's that love though that's keeping the 'no's from turning into 'yes's. You love her enough to not subject her to yourself; your entire being.

This time you feel a nudge on your shin. You look up to see Brittany's expression: _What's wrong?_

You sigh and shake your head, much in the same way she did not even a few minutes earlier. You watch her carefully as she unfastens the paper strip that holds the silverware in it's neat little bundle. She digs in her purse and pulls out a crayon. She carefully writes something on the paper and folds it up. She tosses it across the table when Emily isn't looking. Wouldn't want to set a bad example now would we?

You pick up the paper that landed in front of you and carefully unfold it. On the white paper in purple crayon, is a simple phrase that brings tears to your eyes.

You quickly excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and lock yourself in one of the stalls. Still scrunched up in your clenched fist is the note. The small, simple note that could so quickly bring you to your emotional knees. You open it again because the emotions that come with it are so conflicting and c'mon you want to make sure that you're not freaking out over some misread note. But when you read it again, you know that you read it right the first time.

Against the starkness of the paper, the purple looks so optimistic, especially because it's written in crayon on a strip of paper whose sole purpose is to hold silverware together. It's nothing. It shouldn't mean as much as it does.

You finally calm yourself. Luckily you had the emotional wherewithal to not cry, thus ruining your make up and all hopes of a normal dinner. You shove the note into your pocket and rub your face. It's not a big deal. You take a few deep breaths and exit the stall.

You have no idea why you're surprised that Brittany's leaning against the sinks with her arms crossed, biting at her lip.

"Did you enjoy listening to me pee?" you ask trying to joke around.

She looks at you without even the slightest up curl of her lips, "You didn't pee."

"I'm a quiet pee-er," you wash your hands and shrug.

She finally does quirk an eyebrow, "Ninja pee?"

"Exactly," you nod with a smile all your own. This is what living with a five year old does to you. The word 'pee' is funny because it's synonymous with laughter in your house. You say pee and Emily cracks up. Especially since she started going to school.

"We're sad," you admit as you dry off your hands.

She nods, "So sad."

You toss the towel into the trash and reach for the door. Brittany stops you with a hand on your arm, "Really. Are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you."

You nod with a fake smile, "I'm fine."

She reaches forward and gives your hand a quick squeeze before letting it drop. You open the door and let her walk out first. You can feel the note burning in your pocket. The simple _I Love You_ shook you up. It doesn't do that when she says it, but it's like writing it down makes it more real. There's evidence that you can go back and look at to confirm you actually read what you read.

The rest of the dinner is uneventful. You try to pay, but Brittany insists that she's got it. You go back to Abuelo's house and all of the adults sit around the kitchen table drinking coffee while Emily plays with some of her toys in the living room.

"Where are you ladies staying tonight?" he asks, looking at Brittany.

She just shrugs, "I don't know." You frown. You swore that Brittany said she was going to stay at her mom's house before the plane landed.

"Well you know that you're more than welcome to stay here mija," he pats her arm. "I have plenty of blankets. You all could even have my bed."

Brittany shakes her head, "I couldn't kick you out of your bed. Emily can sleep on the couch and I'll sleep on the floor."

That leaves you wondering where you're going to sleep. Abuelo sees the look on your face and smiles, "I'm sure that all the fleas are gone from your father's old dog house in the back yard. Throw in a few blankets and it'll feel just like home."

Brittany and Abuelo laugh while you pout in your seat. Your Abuelo nudges your shoulder, "Stop sticking that lip out mija, it's going to get caught in something. There are floors all over this house. I've seen you sleep like a baby on the tile in the kitchen."

"I _was_ a baby," you retort.

"And you're being one now," he says with a smile. "C'mon I'll help your girls make a pallet in the living room by the couch.

After the bed and the floor is made, you lay down on the side farthest away from couch, basically pressed against the TV stand. There's enough room for at least four adults to sleep between the couch and the TV stand, but you don't want to accidentally wrap yourself around Brittany. It might give her the wrong idea.

You have a thought as Brittany lays down next to the couch, far enough away from you for you to be comfortable. "Did something happen with your mom?"

Brittany looks from Emily who is passed out to you. She pulls her blanket up over her, "Yeah."

The only light on is the guest bathroom light down the hallway so you can't see Brittany unless she moves and she hasn't moved since she laid down.

You have a sneaking suspicion what the whole fight was about and you both want and don't want to ask. You ask because you feel like since it's your fault you should at least have to listen to her vent for a little bit.

"It doesn't matter," Brittany sighs and rolls over.

"Was it about me?" you ask. Now that she's blocking, you have to know.

There's a pause that tells you the answer before she says, "Yeah."

"I know I shouldn't have come," you huff and pull your blanket up over your head.

"Don't say that," she inches closer to you and you have nowhere to run now. You're not home where you can always say you have to go to work and drink until you actually go into work. You're also trapped on a much smaller scale because you back is already against the furniture.

After a moment of thought you ask, "What was it about this time? Emily shouldn't be around me? I shouldn't be living with you two?"

"She's just…Emily talked about you a lot and my mom thinks that you're good for her, but…maybe not me," she says.

"Check it out, your mom and I agree," you state.

"Mandy thinks we should be together and it's not going to take much longer for you and my mom to figure out that we're right," she's back to playful.

You like it when she's playful, but sometimes it confuses you. She goes from serious conversation to playing with you in half a second.

"Sweet dreams Santana," is the last thing she says before you both fall asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

"Mija," you hear Abuelo whisper. You don't open your eyes because you're abnormally comfortable and warm. You just "hmm?"

"I'm going to take Emily to Sal's for breakfast."

"Mmk," you murmur and try to go back to sleep. You try to roll over but find you can't. You move your head and feel someone else's hair tickling your neck. You inhale deeply and know whose hair it is. Then you realize that your legs are tangled with someone else's and your hand is across her back, your hand resting on her hip. Her head is on your shoulder and her arm is laying across your stomach.

You internally curse your subconscious. You moved across the living room floor in your sleep and snuggled into her.

You know that you can't move without waking her up. Not that you really want to. You're comfortable and warm. You can feel small sporadic patches of skin where her shirt has ridden up or where her shorts end. You decide to allow this. To give yourself a tiny taste of what you miss. Of what you love. You hold her a little tighter because when you get to New York it's back to ignoring your feelings because you're a stripper with a habit who drinks more liquor than she eats.

Brittany stirs a little and tilts her head so that her lips brush your neck. You think your heart may burst because it's beating so hard and so fast. She exhilarated you with every sleeping brush. Finally you disengage yourself from her and roll away. You miss it immediate but it's for the beat. Any more accidental touches and you may wake her up and insist on going out on a date immediately.

You go into the kitchen and start the coffee before going to the bathroom to brush your teeth.  
>When you walk into the living room you find Brittany hugging your pillow. She doesn't open her eyes when she mumbles, "Come back to bed."<p>

"I'm already up," you state like that means something.

"Do you want me to make breakfast?" she lets go of the pillow and stretches.

You go into the kitchen so you can't watch her shirt ride up to reveal her delectable toned but not too toned abs.

"No," you call over your shoulder, "I'll find something."

"Where is Sal's?" she asks appearing behind you.

You grab a coffee cup for her and make it how she likes it before you answer, "It's across town. Abuelo has gone there every Saturday for as long as I can remember. Wait..." you watch her take the first sip of her coffee, "You were awake?"

She nods. "I've been sort of awake for like an hour. I fell asleep right before they left." She takes another sip of the coffee, "Let's go get breakfast."

"Where?"

"Lima Bean?" she asks, setting her coffee on the counter, "You like their croissants right?"

You nod and lean back on the counter facing her, "Okay."

Brittany takes a step up to you and gives you a brief hug. You stiffen when she touches you but it's only a few seconds long. "I'll go get dressed and we can go."

You watch her walk out of the kitchen before going to change.

She drives you to the Lima Bean with the radio being the only sound. When you walk inside you immediately recognize one of the baristas as a Cheerio you went to high school with.

"Brittany!" she grins, "Santana! What are you guys doing here?"

You don't remember her name so you look to Brittany. She smiles softly, "Hey Tiffany. We're just visiting family."

Tiffany smiles wider, "Where are you two living now?"

"New York City," Brittany answers politely.

"That's so awesome," she says a little too enthusiastically, "What do you do?"

"We dance," Brittany doesn't skip a beat. You just want this bitch to shut up so you can eat. You're friggin' hungry and you don't want to talk about what you do for a living.

"That's awesome!" she says finally catching your glare. "Okay what can I get you?"

After a few minutes you have your food and your latte. You're finally happy sitting at the small table in the middle of the shop. Brittany is being quiet, but she has a faint smile on her face, which keeps you from worrying about her.

You both eat in silence until you hear a familiar voice. "I'm just saying that she's an adult and you should just be happy for her."

You turn around in your seat to see Mandy in a Cheerio uniform walking to the counter with none other than Brittany's mom.

Brittany looks at you to see your reaction, which you're pretty sure looks something like a deer in the headlights. You tell her, "I'll be in the car."

"No," she reaches across the table to stop you, "It's fine."

"It is so not fine," you state when you see Mandy spot you and happily walk over.

"Hey where's my munchkin?" she asks after surveying the table.

"She went with Abuelo to get breakfast," Brittany stands up and hugs her sister. Then Mandy pulls you out of your seat for a hug. You see the ice queen walk toward you and you really want to go outside but Mandy has planted herself in your lap. You can say this for Pierce girls: they have no personal space issues.

"So what's the plan for today?" Mandy asks wrapping her arms around your neck, "We have to hang before you guys leave tomorrow. I have practice until noon."

"We can hang out," Brittany says and looks up at her mom who is standing quietly. You've been actively trying to ignore her so when you see her biting her lip nervously like both Brittany and Mandy do you're surprised.

"Hey mom," Brittany offers.

"Hi girls," she forces a smile and then looks at you with a cordial but cold nod. You're surprised she even acknowledged you. "Where's Emily?"

"She's with Santana's Abuelo," Brittany answers, her eyes on her muffin.

You can feel her mom's eyes on you. You're trying to figure out an innocent place to put your hands on her youngest daughter who is happily sipping her iced coffee with an arm around your shoulders. You finally just put one arm on the table and one on her knee.

You glance over at Brittany who is having a stare down with her mom. This whole situation is way, way less than ideal.

"May I have a word with you privately?" her mom asks Brittany.

You are so ready to run out the door at the invitation to leave, that your heart stops when Brittany says, "I'm having breakfast with Santana. If you want to talk to me you can say it in front of her."

"Oooh get it B," Mandy whispers before shoving her straw back in her mouth when her mom shoots her a glare.

"Well I would like to have you, all three of you over for lunch," she says, "If that's alright."

"Can it be after practice?" Mandy asks, "I wanna see my niece."

"Of course dear."

Brittany looks at you. You don't want to say no right to this woman's face. Okay you want to say 'Fuck no' to her face but you won't in front of Brittany and Mandy. You just give Brittany a shrug. She takes a moment and looks her mom over. "Okay. We'll come over at one."

Her mom let out a relieved smile that surprises you. Mandy loops her arm around your neck and pulls you into a tight hug, "Yay. I'll be all showered and changed by then. I gotta get to practice though." she stands up off of your lap and hugs her sister.

Her mom just awkwardly nods to you both and follows Mandy out.

"We don't have to go if you don't want to," Brittany adds picking at her muffin.

You know that Brittany wants you to go. She's really close to her mom and she wants you both to be okay. You take a deep breath and shrug, "It'll be fine. I'll have a little friend with me."

She smiles at you, her million watt Brittany smile. "Thank you Santana. I promise that if my mom is mean to you, we can go."

You nod. You're counting on leaving early. You're almost one hundred percent positive that her mom is going to say something or look at you wrong. You won't yell at her in front of Emily or Brittany or Mandy for that matter, but you will stalk out and never speak to her again.

When you get back to Abuelo's house he and Emily are watching a movie that probably hasn't been out of the case since you were little. "Hola!" Emily yells when you walk in.

"Hola," you say back with a smile.

Brittany picks her up and gives her a hug, "Did you have fun?"

"Si!" Emily says excitedly, "Abuelo taught me Spanish!"

"Awesome," Brittany kisses her cheek and sets her back down on the couch.

The adults convene in the kitchen and stand around in the U-shaped counter. You start cleaning up the coffee mess from before breakfast. "Where did you girls go?"

"Lima Bean," you answer.

"Any plans for lunch?" he asks, handing you a sponge to wipe down the counter.

Brittany pipes in, "We're going to my mom's house."

"Oh yeah?" he asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

You tilt your head and look over at him, "Don't worry about it."

"I promise that my mom won't be mean to her," Brittany tells your Abuelo.

You feel bad that Brittany has to promise that for her mom. Some part of you feels like it's your fault. You sigh and toss the sponge into the sink.

"Well speaking of parents," Abuelo looks at you, "I talked to your father this morning."

"Oh shit," you mutter.

"That's right," he nods, "Your parents don't even know you're in town."

There's a good reason for that. You don't want to see them. You don't want to have to explain what you're doing or the situation with Brittany and Emily. You've never been that comfortable with your parents. You always feel like you let them down.

Abuelo puts his arm around you, "Don't worry. I told them that you'd be over this afternoon."

You turn around on him and start talking in Spanish because you don't want Brittany or Emily to know what you're saying. _"Why would you do that!"_

He replies with a sad smile, "_They're your parents Santana. They love you and they want to be closer to you. They just don't know how."_

You drop your head and revert back to English, "I'm going to go check on Emily." You walk into the living room and drop onto the couch next to Emily. She looks at you, "You know Spanish too?"

You nod.

She smiles and falls into you, "Como estas?"

"Cansando," you say, but she looks at you like you're nuts. "It means tired."

"Why don't you take a nap?" she asks, squirming around in your lap.

You rub her belly and answer, "Because we're going to go to Grandma's house for lunch."

"Really?" Emily's eyes light up. You nod in a reply and she smiles. "I like Grandma's house."

"Oh yeah?" you ask. Of course you're positive that Emily gets way better treatment than you do. How can anyone not be nice to this kid?

She nods, "Grandma makes the best cookies and Aunt Mandy is so fun."

You guess that you're going to have to put on the happy face for this lunch for Emily. You exhale and mutter some dirty words in Spanish.

"What does that mean?" Emily asks.

You bite your lip and decide to tell her that it's a bunch of bad words so she doesn't go around repeating them in public. She giggles and slides off of your lap. You play with Emily until it's time to go to lunch. Brittany invites Abuelo, which you know to be a horrible idea. Given the chance he will tell off Mrs. Pierce and you don't want any more drama. Luckily, he's going bowling with his friends and can't make it.

Brittany drives on the way to her parents' house. She reaches over and takes your trembling hand as she pulls to a stop in the driveway. "Just tell me if she's mean to you okay? We'll leave right away. But Mandy texted me and told me that it will be fine. Mom promises to be nice."

You take a few deep breaths and nod, "I'll be fine." You withdraw your hand from hers and get out the car. You don't want to get too comfortable with Brittany. Especially not when you can feel her mom's eyes peering at you through the curtains.

Emily holds your hand all the way to the front door, which you're immensely thankful for. The little girl gives you confidence. You let her ring the doorbell and the door flies open almost immediately.

"Munchkin!" Mandy calls. She's now in jean shorts and a gray tank top. She scoops up Emily and kisses her cheek. Then she pulls you in with one arm, "Hey Santana."

"Hey," you say back. You're lead in side by Brittany and Mandy who both go straight to the kitchen.

"Hey Emily," Brittany's mom smiles when she sees the little girl. She puts down the knife she's using to chop up vegetables and lifts Emily out of Mandy's arms.

"Hi Grandma," Emily hugs her neck.

You find this as a family moment so you shrink away and walk to the living room. You used to spend a lot of time in this house and you find a peaceful familiarity in it. Until you see the couch where Mrs. Pierce sat you down and told you that you'd never be good enough for Brittany.

"Santana?"

You turn around and see Brittany's dad in the hallway. He gives you a warm smile and an even warmer hug, "You look great."

You smile at him, "You do too." And it's the truth. He doesn't look like he's changed at all since you last saw him.

"How are you doing?" he asks, sitting down on the couch and gesturing for you to sit on the armchair.

You do sit down and answer, "I'm doing great."

"That's good to hear," he says, "Mandy tells me that you're taking care of our girls out there."

That surprises you. You knew that Mandy and Brittany were close, but you didn't know that she told her what was going on with you too. You shrug, "I try."

He gives you a fatherly smile, one that hasn't been bestowed on you since the last time you saw him, "Thank you Santana. You know how much Brittany means to us and Emily is part of the family now. I'm glad they have you."

You're taken aback by his words. This is not what you were expecting. You assumed that the Pierce parents shared the same views on you and your interaction with their eldest daughter. You stammer for something to say, but can't come up with anything.

Luckily Emily trudges into the room and throws herself into your lap. You pull her so that she's sitting up and ask her what's wrong.

"We don't know what she's talking about," Brittany says walking into the living room with her sister and mom."

"What's wrong baby girl?" you look down at the little blonde in your arms.

"I have a head egg," she states simply, resting her head on your shoulder.

You let out a grin and hold her against you. After brushing a kiss against her forehead you look up at Brittany, "She has a headache."

"Is she sick?" Brittany's mom asks, worriedly.

You shake your head, "She's just tired." You've been through this scenario before. Emily complains of a headache and then lays down and sleeps for a few hours.

"We're going to go put Emily down," Brittany tells her parents and sister. You take the hint and stand up with Emily securely in your arms. Her head is already lulling on your shoulder and she's mumbling incoherently.

You follow Brittany down the hallway into her old bedroom. It looks exactly like that last time you were in it and nostalgia hits you like a truck. You take a deep breath and hold it as you step into the room.

You lay Emily down on the bed, but she pulls you with her. Then she holds out her arm toward Brittany who takes the hint and lays down behind her. "Abuelo wore her out huh?" Brittany whispers with a loving smile directed at Emily.

"He does that to everyone," you answer back. Brittany smiles up at you. It's the special smile that you know is only for you. The smile full of love and longing.

You look down at Emily so you don't have to look at Brittany. Emily shifts onto her side facing you and mumbles, "'Tana, Sing."

"Sing what?" you ask. You could never deny this tiny blonde anything. Of course you're starting to realize that you can never deny the taller blonde on the other side of her either.

"The one we heard on the radio," she yawns and burrows into you.

You're not exactly sure what she's talking about so you just sing the first few verses of the first slow song you can think of. She looks to be asleep so you stop and slide out of the bed. You stand at the foot of the bed and watch as Brittany does the same before she leans down and kisses Emily's forehead. "Goodnight sweetheart."

"'Night Mommy," she murmurs and rolls into the pillow, her eyes closed.

You watch Brittany freeze. She just stares at Emily for a moment before looking up at you with tears in her eyes. You know how big that moment is for her. It's the first time that Emily has called her Mommy. You and Emily had a long talk about if she could or even should call Brittany 'mommy'. You told Emily that she could if she wanted to, but she didn't have to.

Brittany takes a tentative step toward you and you open your arms to her. You know exactly what she wants and after what just happened you're definitely going to give it to her. Your arms fit perfectly, wrapped around her waist. She locks her arms around your neck and buries her face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes and absorb everything about they way your bodies are pressed together. The way you can feel her heartbeat against yours.

You don't know how long you stand there, but when she pulls back you immediately miss her. She wipes her eyes and smiles at you, "I can't believe she just said that."

You just smile back. That moment completely warmed your soul if such a thing can happen. She just holds your eyes for a few seconds before she kisses her fingers and presses them to your lips. Then she puts her hand on the doorknob. When she pauses, you look up at her, "I wanted to kiss you, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable." She looks back toward the door and adds, "I love you." It was so quiet that you almost didn't catch it.

You stand in the bedroom to compose yourself for a moment before you follow her out. You emotions just got a one two punch and you don't think you can handle anything else, but now you have to face Brittany's family without the buffer of Emily.

As you walk back into the living room, you wish you had a cigarette or some coke or a drink. You didn't bring any of that with you because you were pretty sure none of it would have made it through airport security anyway. You just need something to take the edge off. You hand twitches at your side and you exhale as you step into view of the family.

Brittany is hugging her mom and her sister and you're sure it's because of what just happened. You stand there watching them until you hear your name. You look to your right and see Brittany's dad. He's got a plate of raw chicken on a plate and a pair of tongs in his hand that he clicks together, "Want to help outside?"

You look at the three blonde women all smiling and crying and hugging, and you practically spring after him out the door.

He walks to the grill and opens it, "What do you know about grilling?"

You shrug, "Not a whole lot. I don't like…cook much."

He chuckles, "That's okay. I was just giving you an out. If my memory serves me right, then you don't enjoy in the weepy, hugging circles."

"Yeah," you chuckles, "That's not my thing."

He drops the chicken on the grill and you two watch it for about ten minutes before he closes the lid. Then he walks to the patio table and sits down. You sit in the chair perpendicular to his and lean back in. You've always liked Brittany's dad more than her mom. He has the same kind eyes that Brittany has.

You both sit in silence for a while, which you're thankful for. But finally he exhales, "I know that you and my wife don't get along and I attribute that to her. She's very protective of her girls and it's regrettable that she said what she did to you. If I had been there, it certainly wouldn't have happened." He runs a hand over his dark blonde hair.

"It's…okay," you shrug. It happened and turns out that she was right. "She was right anyway. Britt deserves more than I can give her."

He smiles kindly upon you, "Well, as her father I don't think that there is anyone in the world that can give her what she deserves because she deserves the whole world and the moon and stars." You smile, knowing that she does in fact deserve that and more. He leans back in his chair and rests his ankle on his knee. "However, when Brittany told us that she was taking that job in New York City we were worried, but even my wife was relieved when she called and told us that she'd found you. I feel so much better knowing that you're there for her; for both of them. I know I already thanked you, but knowing that our girls are going to be safe and taken care of? I can't thank you enough."

You run your fingers through your hair. You don't know how to respond to that. It's a lot of pressure on top of everything else. You really need a drink or something.

"I know from overhearing Mandy talking to her mother that you're reluctant to date Brittany again, which is understandable," he adds when you don't speak, "But know that you were always my favorite." He gives you a wink and you can actually feel yourself blushing.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, giving you a glorious excuse to not look at her. It's your Abuelo calling you. You excuse yourself and go to the far end of the yard to not disturb Mr. Pierce. "Hello?"

"Hey mija," he says, "I just wanted to remind you that your parents are expecting you this afternoon."

"Fantastico," you huff and bite your lip. You switch to Spanish just in case someone (mainly Brittany's mom) is listening, "_If I have go to suffer, you should have to suffer with me."_

He's still using English when he says, "It's not suffering. They're your parents, but if you want me to come, I will."

"_Por favor_," you plead. You really don't want to go, but if you have to you want someone else to be there too. Preferably someone that's on your side. You're _not_ taking Brittany or Emily. You don't want to subject them to your awkwardly tense family.

"Alright mija," he states, "I'll be over there in fifteen minutes."

"Yeah…" you sigh, "Me too."

"Te amo."

"Yeah, love you too."

When you hang up, Brittany, Mandy and Emily have come outside as well. Brittany catches your eyes as you walk over. She meets you at the edge of the porch out of ear shot, "Everything okay?"

"I have to go see my parents," you shove your phone into your pocket. This is so not something that you would normally do sober.

"Do you need me to come with you?" Brittany asks softly, brushing your hair behind your shoulder.

You shake your head, "No. It won't be long." You look over at Mandy who is playing tag with a now awake Emily and Brittany's dad. You wish your family were like this. Even with the ice queen matriarch. You look back at Brittany, "I give it an hour before the yelling starts.

She looks worried and saddened for you. That bothers you so you look at the grass. She pulls you against her body and holds you in a hug even though you briefly struggle to get away. Finally you just rest your head on her shoulder, "I can't wait to go home."

She kisses the side of your head and gives you a squeeze, "We're leaving tomorrow morning. It'll be okay. If you need me just call okay?"

You nod against her shoulder and pull away. This time she lets you go. She pulls the car keys out of her pocket and hands them to you. "Try to have fun."

You answer that with a nod. Brittany calls Emily over so that she can say goodbye. She gives you a hug and tells you that she loves you. You say it back and feel a lot better.

Finally you decide that if you don't go now, you won't. The walk to the car is longer than you remember and the drive to your parents' house is shorter than it used to be. You sit in the car in front of your parents' house, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, trying to work up the nerve to open the car door and actually go inside.


	9. Chapter 9

Before you even get to the front door, you're planning your route back to Abeulo's. You try to think of every liquor store and gas station between here and there. Just as you're about to knock on the door, Abuelo drives up. His music is cranked up and the top to his car is down. He pulls to a stop behind Brittany's rental car and cuts the engine.

You can't help, but smile at him. He's the most youthful old person you know. He jumps out of his car and walks up to you, "Glad to see that you waited for me."

"Of course I did," you say and hug him.

He keeps his arm around your shoulders when he opens the front door. It's either to comfort your or to make sure that you don't run off. It's probably a combination of both.

"Anthony! Teresa!" he calls into the house, "Your beautiful daughter is here to see you."

You hear the muted footsteps of your parents. Your heart starts beating a million miles a minute and you just want to faint or something. Of course even then you wouldn't get the chance to get away from them. Your father would probably end up being your doctor at the hospital.

When your parents appear you're struck by how old they look. It's been almost a year since you've seen them, but your dad's hair is turning gray on the sides and the wrinkles on your mother's face are more profound. Of course they're dressed like they're meeting the president. Your dad is in pressed khaki pants with a blue polo. His oxfords are shined and his belt matches them. Your mother is in a tan tunic top with a large black belt holding it to her slim waist. They're the picture perfect couple.

They just stand there for a minute looking at you. Finally your mother walks over to you and gives you a hug. "Santana…" she trails off and when she pulls away you can see that she's crying.

"What's wrong?" you immediately ask. You may not be close to your parents, but you're protective over everyone that you love.

"It's just…" she elegantly wipes the tear from her face, "You're so beautiful and so grown up."

You quirk an eyebrow, "Uh yeah."

Your father smiles and takes his turn to hug you, "It's good to see you." He says it like he talks to his patients even though when they get to him, they rarely think that it's good to see him. You feel sort of like that right now.

You walk into a house that you vacated for a one-room box in New York City. You think you may have given your father a minor heart attack when you threw the acceptance letter you got from his alma mater into the trashcan and packed up all your stuff. That was the night that they cut you off. They still have your college fund for all you know. You sold some of your less necessary electronics at the pawnshop in town to get money to drive to New York. That was also the night that Brittany's mom had her talk with you, but you know, it's just a coincidence.

You drove out of Lima and never looked back. You only come back for Abuelo's birthday and Christmas and now Brittany dragged you back.

"Are you hungry?" you mother asks you, placing her hand on your back as she guides you through the house like you didn't live here while you were in high school. You end up in the living room. It's sterile and mostly untouched, just like it was when you were here. The only room that ever looked like it was lived in was your own.

You shake your head even though you didn't get to eat at the Pierces'. You feel sick. If you eat, it will make a reappearance. When you sit down on the couch, you don't feel comfortable at all. You sit at the edge of the cushion with you hands on your knees.

Abuelo clears his throat, "So, Santana why don't you tell your parents what it's like living in the big city?"

You look at him and try to get him to shut up. You don't want his help. You just want to get this over with. "Well," you can't really think of anything to say, "It's uh…the food is awesome."

"I bet," your mother smiles softly. You can't really tell if it's a fake smile or not, but you decide to pretend that you have normal parents and that the smile is real. She leans forward, "Do you take the subway?"

She says it like it's some ride at Disneyworld. You shrug, "Yeah sometimes."

"What about homeless people?" she asks.

She says it like they're Martians. You can't really believe that this woman is from planet Earth. "Yeah there are homeless people. Like in every city. I saw Patches barking at some people at the library on the way here." In your head you hope that he still barks at Brittany's mom. You're not mean enough to wish that he actually bite her….well yeah you are.

"What about art shows?" your mom asks you, "Do you go to those?"

You shrug, "I guess. Brittany doesn't really like them so usually we just go to the Met." The second you finish that sentence you know that you just opened up a whole new can of worms that you were planning to never open with your parents.

"Brittany Pierce?" your father finally speaks.

"She found you," your mother adds quietly with a faint smile on her face. You're not sure your dad heard her, but you sure did.

You nod and a sigh, "Yeah."

"You're seeing her?" your father leans back in his armchair.

"No seeing her, seeing her," you sputter out and run your fingers through your hair, "I just live with her."

"You what?" you mom blinks.

"I mean, we just…live together. I just help her with Emily," you say and then drop your head in your hand. You weren't going to bring Emily up either. You're mouth is as stupid as it ever was.

"Who is Emily?" your father asks.

You keep your head where it is and just come out with it. It's not like this can get any worse, "She's Brittany's daughter."

There's a pause before your mother asks, "She had a child? Where's the father?"

"No she didn't have Emily. She was dating this Richie guy who left them both and Brittany moved to New York with Emily," you look up at your father who is looking right at you with a borderline disapproving look. You add, "Brittany found me and I moved in with her and watch Emily when she goes to work."

"Don't you work?" your father asks.

"At night," you state. You're not going to let your job slip out. There's no way in hell your parents would ever consider speaking to you after that.

"You should see Santana with Emily," Abuelo smiles warmly at you, "She's a natural."

"I'm…" you lower your voice and bow your head, "not really." You don't feel like a natural. Most of the time you think that you answer all of her questions with too much or too little information and maybe you're scarring her for life on occasion.

"You are," he touches your arm and looks at your parents, "Emily is the most adorable great-grandchild I could ever ask for. I took her to Sal's this morning. She had all the guys in there wrapped around her little finger."

"Great grandchild?" you father asks. You're almost positive he just had another minor heart attack.

"Not legally," Abuelo waves your father off, "But Santy takes care of her and is much of a parent to her as Brittany."

You start to add that no you're not when your mom asks, "Why didn't you tell me?"

You really can't believe that she just asked that. "You start showing interest in my life because there's now a kid in it?" you ask her.

"Santana," your father barks, "Don't talk to your mother like that."

You stand up and are ready to walk out when Abuelo puts his hand on your wrist, keeping you from leaving, "Anthony, that's no way to speak to your daughter. She has a point."

"I-" your mother looks down at her knees. "You do have a point. I'm sorry for not being there for you. It just that you ran off so quickly."

"You didn't even try to stop me," you burst. You can't really believe what just came out of your mouth. You've never said that out loud or even consciously thought that.

Your mother's jaw moves open and closed like she's trying to find something to say. Finally she comes up with, "You know how you are."

"I was _eighteen_," you raise your voice for the first time to your mother since you can remember, "I was still a kid. You could have stopped me."

There are tears in your mother's eyes and she hangs her head. Your father stands up and points to the door, "You need to leave."

"Anthony," Abuelo stands up to his son, "No she doesn't."

"Don't bother. They don't really care," you tell him and walk to the front door. You don't stop until you're in the car. You glance back at the house long enough to see Abuelo standing in the front door calling out to you. You shake your head and take off.

You don't want to go to the Pierce house. There's already enough drama in your life without adding Lima parents to it. So you stop by the gas station on the way back to Abuelo's house and pick up cigarettes and a six-pack. The house is locked and you don't have a key so you go into the back yard and sit on the porch.

Why did you even come back here? You knew it was a horrible idea. You grab your second beer and light your third cigarette. You're done with this stupid town. If it weren't for Abuelo you'd never come back.

"Santana?"

You want to hit your head against something very hard. You turn to your left and see your mother walking around the fence toward you. You stand up, ready to walk away when she says, "Don't go. I want to talk to you."

You lean on the post of the awning over the porch and take a long gulp of your beer. You don't answer. She takes your lack of an answer as a go ahead.

"You're right. I should have stopped you or at least tried," she says with a deep sigh. "I just felt like…at the time, I'd already failed you. You'd gone through so much of your life already by yourself that… I didn't feel that it was my place to tell you to stay. I know that I worked a lot and that your father worked a lot and that we weren't there for you like we should have been. I'm sorry for that," she pauses and picks up a beer out of the box, rolling the bottle between her hands, "I don't want there to be any more animosity between us. I don't want you avoiding your father and me. We love you."

"Then where's dad?" you ask with a bite and bring the cigarette to your lips.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," she says, but then replaces the beer and takes a step closer to you, "Your father is at the house talking to your Abuelo. I asked him not to come yet. I wanted to talk to you."

You sit down on the steps and take a sip of your beer.

"Tell me about Emily," she sits down next to you and offers you a smile.

"You really want to know?" you ask. You're surprised that she's taking an interest. You didn't expect her to. You expected her to want to ignore both Emily and Brittany.

She nods, "Of course. She's my first grandchild."

You tell your mom every cute story that you can remember and show her all the pictures of Emily on your phone. She smiles and even puts an arm around you. "She's adorable."

You nod, "Yeah. She is."

"Is she here?" your mom asks, "In Lima?"

You hesitate to tell her, but judging from the past half hour she genuinely doesn't wish Emily any harm. "Yeah."

"Can I," she pauses, "Can I meet her?"

"I'll have to ask Brittany," you answer, putting out your cigarette.

She smiles, "Thank you. This means so much to me."

You put in a quick call to Brittany. She happily tells you that she'll be over in a few minutes. Your mom produces a key to the house that Abuelo gave her and you both go inside. You change into some clothes that don't smell like smoke or beer. You don't really want Brittany to know that you've been drinking or smoking.

You're still sort of nervous about your mom meeting Emily. You remember her when you were little telling you to sit up and don't play with your food. She was about as strict of a parent at you knew of when she was around. You always felt inferior in the presence of your parents and you don't want Emily to feel like that. If you think she starts to feel like that then you're going to ask your mother to leave.

You and your mother sit awkwardly in the living room until you hear the front door open. Emily runs into the room and jumps into your arms, "Hi 'Tana."

"Hey baby," you can't help, but smile when she's in your arms. You pull away and look at her, "Did you have fun with Grandma, Grandpa and Aunt Mandy?"

She nods, "It was fun, but Mommy got mad at Aunt Mandy though."

You look up at Brittany who is sitting on the arm of the couch. She raises a pissed eyebrow with a look that says she'll explain later. You just nod and take a deep breath. "Emily?"

"Hmm?" she looks up at you with wide eyes.

"I want you to meet someone," you tell her and take one of her hands.

She looks suspiciously at the only person in the room that she doesn't know. Your mom smiles warmly at her. You stand up and walk with Emily over to her. "This is my mom."

Emily looks from you to your mom and then back like she doesn't believe it or she's trying to pick out the resemblances. Then she looks at your mom with a smile and says, "Hi."

"Hi," your mom smiles and touches Emily's shoulder, "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Emily echoes like she's been taught.

Your mom looks up at Brittany and stands up to hug her, "It's great to see you again as well."

Brittany just smiles and hugs your mom back. Your mother sits back down and looks at Emily, "So, how old are you?"

"I'm five," she holds out her hand, her fingers splayed out to illustrate her answer.

"Five?" your mom puts her hands in her lap, "You're so big. I'm sure you do a lot of things by yourself."

That gets Emily's attention. This kid keeps trying to do everything herself and insists that she's old enough to do so. She starts naming all the things that she can do by herself and then the things she thinks that she's old enough to do, but you or Brittany have told her that she isn't.

Your mother surprises you. The way she treats Emily is a complete 180 from how you remember your childhood. She's warm and attentive. She's actually paying attention to her. Of course when Abuelo walks in your mother, as well as you and Brittany, are completely forgotten. Emily runs into his arms that they exchange simple pleasantries in Spanish. Behind Abuelo is your father.

You immediately tense when you see him. You're itching to go back onto the back porch and finish off that six-pack and those cigarettes. You feel a hand on your shoulder and look to see Brittany's concerned eyes pointed toward you. Before you can say anything, your mother sweeps past you and quietly confers with her husband.

"Santana?" you father says when your mother takes her place next to Abuelo and Emily in the living room. "May I have a word?"

Every time he talks to you it's so formal. He treats you like a patient. First minimal pleasantries and then he sends his nurse aka your mom to actually do the work. Brittany moves her hand on her shoulder to the small of your back. You step away from her because you don't want her in the middle of your shit. She already saw too much of your relationship with your parents in high school. You just want to get this over with so you can get back to New York as soon as possible.

You sigh and lead the way out onto the back porch. You sit on the steps and stare out into the yard. Your father sweeps off the step with his hand before he sits down next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier," he states, "I shouldn't have told you to leave. I overacted."

And people wonder where you get it from. Well there should be a big fucking neon sign above his head that says 'Right Here'. You don't want to talk about it. You want it to be over with so you just shrug and say, "Forgiven." You stand up and cross your arms, "We done?"

A flash of anger crosses his face, followed by a helplessness you've never seen in him before. With a deep breath he nods, "I suppose so."

You don't wait for him when you walk back into the house. When you get to the living room, your mom and Brittany are deep in a conversation and Abuelo is looking through some sort of photo album with Emily. You walk up behind the couch and rest your forearms on the back of it behind Abuelo.

You speak in Spanish so Brittany, Emily and your mom won't understand your whining. _"You got that out to embarrass me didn't you?"_

He smiles up at you, "_Why else do you think I still have it?"_ He looks up from the album and says, "Brittany, why don't you come look at these?"

You groan and let your head fall onto the cushions. "Dios mio. I'm going to go hide in the bathroom." You barely escape the room before your father walks back in. You have a plan on dealing with him now. It's one hundred percent avoidance.

Once in the bathroom you splash cold water on your face and check your email. You return a few text messages from friends wondering where the hell you've disappeared to and play a quick game of solitaire while sitting on the edge of the bathtub. You weren't kidding about hiding in the bathroom. You even rearrange all of the bottles in your Abuelo's shower in alphabetical order.

Finally there's a knock on the door. You huff and decide that you'll have to find somewhere else to hide. When you open the door, Brittany's standing in the hallway with her hands on her hips. A small smile is playing upon her lips, "You've been in there for twenty minutes."

"Were you really listening to me pee again?" you ask, "I think you have a problem."

She rolls her eyes playfully and drags you back to the living room. Emily is sitting on the couch with your mother, who explains every picture that she points out. They haven't seen you yet and Brittany has paused in the hallway to observe them so you observe with her. You think it may be interesting to see what your mom is saying about you.

"There's a lot of pictures of Mommy in here," Emily states. The way she says it seems like she's stating a hypothesis or something. It's finite and very clinical.

"Well, your mommy and Santana were the best of friends," your mom says with a smile, "They did everything together."

You resist the urge to look at Brittany because you know that she's looking at you. You did do everything together. School, Cheerios, glee, vacations, shopping, kissing….other things…. She was so much more than your best friend. She was your whole world.

You take a calming breath and step into the living room. If you overhear anything else like that you'll start to cry and then you'll start to smoke and drink and everyone will become as disappointed in you as you are with yourself. You take a seat in the armchair away from the photo album. You don't need to look at the pictures to feel the hurt that the memories cause you. You left your best friend and constant companion in the rear view mirror the night you left Lima. You feel that everyday. You feel the pain from the knowledge that you'll never have her the same way again.

Brittany walks in and sits next to your mom and Emily. She shoots you a worried look, but you look at your nails trying to look too distracted to hear all the stories. Your mom can give vague outlines, but Brittany knows every detail. She can tell you why you were wearing blue mascara or why there's a duck chasing you or why her hair was the way it was. You can remember every story right along with her and it burns.

Finally you can't take it anymore so you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You stand at the sink just watching the water run when movement out the window catches your eye. Out the window over the sink, you see Abuelo and your father talking in the middle of your backyard. Your father has his head down and is rubbing the back of his neck. He raises his hands in a surrender and shrugs. Abuelo exaggeratedly rolls his eyes and starts talking again. You can't hear what they're saying, but you know what it's about.

It's like you can't go anywhere without drama settling in on those around you. You're like a curse. You should have just stayed in New York. It would have saved everyone so much heartache. Especially you. You forget the water and go into Abuelo's room. It's neat and orderly, all put together and straightened. You close the door and lay down on the bed. You lay on your side and stare at his nightstand. The lamp on it has got to be older than you as well as the alarm clock. Next to the alarm clock is a picture of your Abuela. Even just a picture of her smile can make you feel so much better. You miss her and you're sure Abuelo does too.

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. You remember laying here when you were little. You spent a lot of time here and because you did, so did Brittany. When Brittany wasn't here and there was a storm or something you'd run into this room and lay between Abuelo and Abuela, staring at the ceiling wondering when the storm would blow over so you could go to sleep.

You feel like that right now. You wonder when this emotional clusterfuck of a storm is going to blow over, but this time as you listen for the sounds of a reprieve, you're alone.


	10. Chapter 10

The rating has been changed to M so take that as you will.

* * *

><p>Of course when you get to New York, things aren't easy. You've only been back from Lima for three days and Brittany gets served. You look over the papers with her and find that Richie is suing her for the money she got selling the house. Not for custody of his daughter. The money from selling the fucking house. It's taking a lot out of you not to track him down and kick his ass.<p>

Brittany sighs heavily, "I already used most of it to pay for Emily's school."

You look questioningly at her, "Does she go to school at Harvard?"

"Since I had the money I paid her tuition for the next three years," Brittany states, "It's a hard school to get into and I only go her in because my director's son goes there and he recommended us. It's right next to the studio. All her friends are there. I don't want to have to move her."

You check the time and rub your eyes, "I'll call the attorney tomorrow."

When you do, you have to pay him five hundred bucks for him just to talk to you and look over the papers. When he's done, he tells you that you need to produce the note that Richie left Brittany and if not you're probably going to have to court, which will cost a whole lot more.

Brittany says that she may still have the note but she may not. You have some money saved up, but not enough to fight an entire legal battle. The answer presents itself a few days later.

Two thousand dollars for sex. That definitely seemed like an excessive amount of money to pay for sex. You'd heard that girls downtown would do it for twenty bucks and a rock. This guy must really, really want you and be really, really wealthy.

You sit on the bed and drop your head in your hands. That would certainly help in the legal battle Brittany's going to have with Richie.

Brittany asks from the door, "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, "Nothing."

"Something is wrong," she accuses and moved to the bed to sit down next to you.

You shake your head in a weak attempt to placate her. You know she'll see right through. It may have been years but she still knows you like you never parted.

"Santana."

You sigh, avoiding her eyes, "I could get some money to help with the lawyer."

She pauses like she knows she's not going to like the answer, "How?"

"There's a guy who wants me to..." you trail off gesturing vaguely to the bed.

Her eyes nearly bug out, "No." She stands up and looks down at you. She looks completely appalled.

You blink because you're not sure you've ever seen that look on Brittany before, "What?"

"No," she states with finality, "You're not going to have sex for money."

You sigh, "It's two thousand dollars."

"It doesn't matter. No."

Irrational anger that you're so good at producing comes out, "You have no say in who I sleep with. If I want to do it and buy a fucking kilo of coke and bury my fucking face in it I will." You stand up and cross your arms. You'd never, ever hit her, but you're clenching your fists in anger.

Her eyes start watering and you fight to keep your fighting stance. She puts her hands on your crossed arms, "No you won't Santana. You're better than that."

Her words are low and calm and they strike you so hard that you're stunned. You sit back down and shake your head, "I'm not."

"Yes you are-"

"I'm a fucking stripper Brittany. I take off my clothes so that perverted men will put money in my fucking g-string. No I don't think I'm better than that." You drop your head in your hands again.

She sits down and puts her arms around you, "I know you are."

With a heavy sigh, you shake your head, "You don't know anything about me." You know that's a lie. You're just mad and hurt and deflecting. You know this.

"I know everything about you."

You pull away from her and mutter, "Fuck you."

She doesn't hesitate to answer with "I love you."

Those words are the scariest words you've ever heard her say. It feels like your heart has sped up so fast it's stopped. You're shaking when you stand from the bed. You want to go over to her and sweep her up in your arms; tell her you've never stopped loving her. You want to but you don't. You don't deserve to after everything that's happened. You'll taint the beautiful blonde that you've loved since you can remember. You're poisonous and she's open, willing to let you and your poison in. You won't allow it. She deserves more, better.

You grab your coat out of the closet and quickly walk out the door.

You kick the ground around the corner from your dealer. Your back is pressed against the building and you can hear him talking. The money is trapped tightly in your fist that's jammed in your coat pocket. All you have to do is walk up to him and give home the money. You'll have your blow and that will be that.

But you think of the other things you can do with that money. The kid would love the Natural History Museum. Or you could get Brittany's favorite dinner on the way home. Or you could pick up that building set that the kid's been wanting. Every penny should in reality be going toward the lawyer.

You huff and turn on your heel. You can't do it. You're responsible now for both of them whether you like it or not. Brittany could take care of herself and the kid but you don't want them scraping by. They deserve to be happy.

You pick up dinner on the way back and are greeted by Brittany and Emily sitting at the table coloring together. Brittany looks at you questioningly and you half-heartedly hold up a bag filled with Chinese food. Emily sits at the table with her food finishing the page while you and Brittany lean awkwardly in the kitchen on opposite counters.

She keeps looking at you and you keep looking away. You just pick at your chow mien and stare at the counter.

"San?" You look up at Brittany who is done eating. She takes a deep breath, "I know you want to help but... I don't want you to do that. Not for me."

You close the box you were eating out of and stick it in the refrigerator, not looking at her, "It's not for you."

"I know you care about her but... " Brittany sighs, "Fine. You do it but that's only half of what we need. I'll get the other half."

You narrow your eyes at her and ask, "How?"

She shrugs, "Probably the same way you do it." Then she turns to the counter to get a glass down.

The idea completely disgusts you. "Hell no, you're not."

She fills up the glass with water and takes a sip before nonchalantly shrugging, "Why not?"

You glance at the table to make sure Emily isn't listening. When you see that she's not you take a step closer to Brittany and lower your voice, "I know what you're trying to do. It's completely different. Your worth so much more than-"

She cuts you off, "Than you?"

"Exactly." you huff and grab your jacket, " I'm going out."

"Santana," Brittany sighs and grabs your arm. You shrug her off and open the door.

"Where are you going?" Emily asks, standing at your feet with her empty takeout box in hand.

You sigh and know you're not going anywhere now, "I thought I heard someone at the door." You close it. "Are you done?" you ask lifting the box from her hand.

She nods.

You watch her yawn and then tell her, "Go get ready for bed."

"Will you sing to me?"

Her voice is so soft that you almost don't hear it, "Hmm?"

"Brittany told me about a time you sang to her. About a bird? Please?" She hugs your waist.

You sigh heavily and look at Brittany who is blushing and busying herself with the dishes. "Sure. Go change and brush your teeth."

After Emily is changed and in bed, you sit down on the floor next to her bed and start to sing. You get a few verses in and Emily falls asleep.

You walk into the living room to see Brittany standing by the sink, on her phone. "I'm sure she'd love to…yeah…awesome…okay bye." When she hangs up, she spots you looking at her. She gives you an unsure smile, "Uh, that was Quinn. Her nieces are going to spend the night at her house and Emily's going to spend the night too."

"When?" you ask.

"Friday," Brittany says.

You nod. That's going to be an interesting night. Just Brittany with no Emily. You're going to have to think of something to do to stay out of the apartment.

She tilts her head, "You know it would be the perfect time to go out on a date."

You can't help, but smile every time she asks you out on a date. She finds ways to interject her little proposals into conversations and you have to give it to her. She's persistent.

You shake your head and she just smiles back. As you're standing there for a moment, an idea strikes you. "I'm going to go call my mom."

"What-why?" she asks, following you into the bedroom where you retrieve your phone.

"You know that college fund that I never used?" you ask, falling back onto the bed.

She nods and sits down at the foot of the bed.

"Well, let's hope that my parents didn't use it to buy a boat," you say and call your mom.

It's awkward on the phone with her for the first few minutes, but soon you get around to the point. She tells you that they haven't touched your college fund and you're welcome to it. You ask her if there's any way to just change the name on the account so that the college fund belongs to Emily Pierce. It doesn't make sense but both your mother and Brittany get choked up at the same time. You can't imagine why.

Your mom tells you that she sent Emily something in the mail and it should be arriving in a few days. You wonder what it is, but she has to go before you can ask. She tells you that she'll call you back after she's switched the names around and then you can withdraw from the account when you need it.

"Well," you put the phone down, "That's taken care of."

Brittany crawls up the bed next to you and slides her arm around your waist. She kisses you cheek and squeezes you against her. "You're so sweet."

"Uh…" you stutter out, "Thanks."

"I love you Santana," she kisses you cheek again before getting off of the bed.

It's finally Friday. Brittany went to work and you've been catching up on sleep. It's nice. You woke up a few times, but always managed to get back to sleep.

You hear the door open and roll over only for a second to make sure you're not being robbed. You hear the clank and rustle of Brittany's purse on the floor by the front door. You guess it's almost time for you to surrender the bed. It's times like these where you wish you actually had a decent couch.

You hear the squeak of the bedroom door swing open, but no footsteps follow. You roll onto your back to see what she's doing. That's when you hear the whoosh of her coat as it falls to the floor. Her eyes lock onto yours as she quickly shimmies out of her dance pants and starts to crawl onto the bed.

You blink twice before moving to get up and give her the bed, but you feel your hips pressed down into the mattress and when you look up, her eyes make your whole body freeze up. The hand on your hip moves to plant itself next to your shoulder.

Her face nears yours, but you can't move. Not because you're physically trapped, but because the intense gaze she affixed to you has rendered your muscles useless.

Your eyes finally flutter shut, but a split-second too late because her breath glides over your lips. You can feel the heat from her lips that are less than a whisper away from yours.

But she doesn't move forward.

She's waiting for you to move and you clench your fists in an attempt to fight it. You feel yourself moving into her because you can't stop yourself. You always have found a contentment and an extreme excitement in Brittany's kisses. Once your lips touch, she takes over gently massaging your lips with her own. It's completely gentle and tender. Your brain is screaming for this to stop, but you can't. You crossed a line that you can't uncross.

She rolls onto her back and move in tandem with her, finding yourself on top of her. Her hands find the hem of your shirt and sneak under it. Then she drags her fingers down her back, hard enough for you to feel it, but soft enough so that it was still sweet. When your hand finally finds some of her skin, her hands are cupping your ass. She gives you a firm squeeze and you let out a deep moan.

She rolls you back over and flicks her tongue over your bottom lip. Jesus this girl knows everything that turns you on. You're so lost in her that all your walls and boundaries are forgotten. She completely surprised you and you didn't have time to arm yourself.

You slide your hand into her hair as she kisses down you neck, hitting every single spot that turns you on that much more. She hasn't forgotten anything about being with you. She remembers ever touch, ever caress, every single thing that you love. And she's pulling out all the stops.

Her hand manages to get behind your shirt off of your head and takes her time, slowly pulling it down your arms as her teeth graze your collarbone. For a brief moment, you start trying to get away. You shouldn't be letting this happen. However your arms get caught in your sleeves and you can feel her grin against your skin as she uses the shirt to tie your hands together.

You're completely stunned by this action. Where the hell did she learn to do that? She uses one hand to hold your hands over your head and dips her head down to capture your left nipple in her mouth. All struggling has stopped. You're just limply laying there, panting heavily.

She seems to notice that and let's go of your hands. After she's done teasing your breasts to the point of insanity, she moves down your stomach and starts pulling your panties down. You knew you should have worn more clothes to bed maybe if you had been given an extra split second that it would take her to get some sleeping shorts off of something you could have stopped this.

"Britt," you finally whine. You bring your hands down and pull at one shoulder of her shirt. She seems conflicted. She keeps glancing down between your legs and up at your face. Finally she sits up enough to pull her shirt off and your mouth starts watering.

You can feel her gently part your legs, settling between them. She runs her tongue the length of your slit and you just about come on the spot. She eases one finger inside of you and almost immediately another follows.

You call her name again, this time in the form of a moan. You put your still tied hands on the back of her head and pull her up your body, her fingers still moving in and out of you. You shouldn't be enjoying this so much. You should have stopped it a long time ago, but now that you've had that taste, you're hooked again. You pull Brittany's mouth to yours and kiss her deeply. She's moving her hips with her fingers, getting them deeper inside of you with each thrust.

Your legs wrap themselves around her as you get closer and closer. Finally you reach your beautiful release. Your whole body tenses and you whisper her name against her lips. No one has ever been able to get you as high as her. No drug has ever made you feel as good as she does.

One orgasm shouldn't have you completely spent, but it was the best orgasm you've had in a long time. You find yourself drifting off to sleep as she pulls out of you, showering your face with kisses and whispering "I love you," over and over. She releases your hands and your automatically wrap your arms around her as you fall into sleep.

When you wake up it's dark outside. She's still sleeping soundly next to you. You're struck by how beautiful she is, just laying there next to you. You know what you did was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened.

You carefully get out of the bed and get dressed. You have to figure out how you're going to handle this. You can't take it back, but maybe you can explain it away or something….yeah right. Now that you've had what you missed you're addicted. You can't stop thinking about how her skin feels against yours and how she knows everything about your body.

It takes an insane amount of willpower for you not to just crawl back into bed, wake her up and have your way with her. Instead you grab your bag and walk out the door, running away just like you always do.


	11. Chapter 11

You can't believe what you just let happen. You take a shot of tequila. She crawled under her defenses and now she's all over you. You take another shot. You just can't believe it. And you can't stop thinking about it. Kissing her, touching her, feeling her all over you…It just…You miss it so bad. Your knee is bouncing with nervous energy. You're nervous because you know you want to do it again.

You decide to call it a night and get into work early. It's Friday night and you'll make bank if you can get on your 'A' game. You do actually make bank, going home with over a thousand dollars. You're still worried about this legal thing with Richie and about how much it's going to cost.

You're exhausted when you get back to the apartment and you hope that Brittany is asleep. When you step into the apartment, it's so far so good because the only light on is the lights over the stove that Brittany always leaves on for you. You set your take from tonight on the kitchen counter and put your bag on top of the refrigerator.

Then you have a stare down with the bedroom door. You really shouldn't have come home tonight. You should have stayed at some one else's place. But not Kelly. She keeps trying to get you to come over again. Even after you told her it's never, ever, not in a million years happening again.

Finally you decide to sleep in Emily's bed, but you don't want to do that without changing and showering. Of course the only shower along with all of your clothes is in the bedroom. Maybe if she's asleep, you can sneak in there and shower quietly.

When you walk into the bedroom you can see that Brittany is fast asleep. She's still exactly like you left her, naked from the waist up on her stomach. It's chilly in the room so you pull the blankets up across her bare back and rest them across her shoulders. You've probably been looking at her a little too long, more than appropriate.

You're successful at the quiet showering part, but you drop a hanger when you go to get your clothes. She starts to stir a bit so you scurry out of the room and into Emily's where you finish getting dressed.

As you lay on the bed, you look at the decorations. You're glad Emily likes it because if you had to grow up in this room you may have killed yourself. There's too much pink for you. Too much frilly stuff. You definitely embraced the dark side at an early age, insisting that your room be painted a dark color.

Your phone buzzes next to you and you pray that it's not Kelly asking you to come over again. You're going to have to kick that girl's ass to get to her understand what one night stand means. But you find it's not. It's from Brittany. _Why are you sleeping in Emily's room?_

_I didn't want to wake you up._ Complete lie. Well not complete lie. You didn't want to wake her up, but that's not the reason you're not sleeping in there.

_I'm awake now. _

You can't think of anything to say back to that to explain why you can't except: _We can't be together. _

There's almost no pause in the answer. _We will be. I love you and you love me and none of the rest of it matters_.

Why is she so damn persistent? You're getting frustrated. _It does matter. It matters a lot._ You are very aware of the fact that you didn't just deny loving her back because you do. It was never a question of that.

You wait for a text back but instead you hear footsteps walking toward you. You squeeze your eyes shut and hope that you're being robbed. Of course, when you open your eyes, Brittany is sitting on the floor her back on the doorframe, facing you.

"Why are you on the floor?" you ask her.

"We need to talk," she says, seriously.

You sigh and sit up on the bed with your legs crossed. You face her, but your eyes stay on your legs.

"I think it's obvious that I want to be with you," she says, pulling her knees to her chest. "And I think that you want to be with me, you're just…scared or mad at me or something."

"I'm not mad at you," you sigh. You can't have her thinking that you're mad at her for anything. Brittany looks up and you can feel her eyes on you. You can't resist looking back. She looks sad. You definitely didn't want that. "I'm not mad at you, I swear."

"I know," she looks down at her nails, "But that means you're scared and I don't want you to be scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you," you assure her immediately, "I'm scared of what I could do to you."

She looks up at you and holds you eyes, "Well, I'm not. I'm not afraid of you or anything you could do to me."

"You should be," you run your hands through your still damp hair.

A smile breaks out on her face and she says, "I'll never be afraid of you. You're my Santypants."

You have a chuckle at that. You can't believe that she still remembers that. You shake your head, "I'm not Santypants anymore."

"You'll always be Santypants," she gives you a loving smile.

You can feel it too. You can feel all the love that she has for you and it's starting to hurt. You duck your head and take a deep breath, "It's not the same. We're not the same."

"I know," she says, "But we still love each other. That's the same and that's all we need." She stands up and walks over to the bed. "Lay down and get some sleep honey. We'll talk more tomorrow okay?"

You can just nod because her vicinity has rendered you incapable of your own thoughts. You lay down and she pulls the covers up to your chin. She smiles at you and kisses you lightly on the lips before you can protest, "I love you Santana."

You squeeze your eyes closed as she walks out of the room, not even waiting for your reply.

In the morning, you wake up and look around the apartment. She's gone. You didn't think that she was supposed to work today, but you never know. After some coffee that was already made and a bagel you start getting dressed. You need to think so you're going to go walk around for a while.

You feel a text vibrate your phone as you're about to walk out the door. _Can you pick up Emily? I had to run in to work._ You sigh and know that you can't say no. Once she gives you directions, you take her car to Manhattan Beach. You wonder what Quinn does or who she married that she can afford to live here. When the GPS on your phone tells you that you've arrives you're stuck by a large tan house with a fenced in front yard. You can see Quinn sitting on the front porch watching three little kids running around.

You get out of the car and as soon as you step on the property Emily almost tackles you with a hug. "'Tana!" You like that someone is that excited to see you, but you're worried about what happens when she gets older and bigger.

Quinn smiles up from the porch and elegantly makes her way over to you. She pulls you into a hug that surprised you, "Santana, it's so good to see you."

"Yeah you too."

"You look good," Quinn looks you over with a friendly smile. She watches as Emily runs back into the house with the other two kids. "Why don't you come in? It'll take a little while for Emily to get all of her stuff together."

You nod and nervously follow her into the gigantic house. As you follow her through the pristine living room and into a large kitchen, you add, "Nice place."

"Thanks," she smiles at you, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Water," you answer.

She moves effortlessly around the kitchen and gets you the water you requested. Then she leans on the counter across from you, "I'm sorta glad that Brittany got stuck at work. It really is good to see you."

"Really?" you ask. You can't really imagine that people want to see you or miss you in any way.

"Of course," she smiles her perfect smile.

You don't know what to say to that so you take a long sip of your water. Luckily Quinn keeps talking. "Emily talks about you like you're the greatest person on the planet."

"Really?" you're starting to sound like a broken record, but that surprises you.

Quinn laughs and rests her chin in her palm, "Yeah. She loves you S."

You shrug, "I love her too."

"I always knew you'd be an awesome parent," Quinn stands up and starts moving around the kitchen, "You have that whole protective thing down."

You look around the kitchen and even after living with Emily for the past few months, you know the difference between a kitchen with a kid and a kitchen without one. "What about you? No kids?"

Quinn shakes her head, "Nah. Not yet anyway. I'm going to wait until I'm ready this time, but my nieces come over all the time. We should all have a play date next week some time. Emily said she likes museums."

"She loves them," you tell her, "We go to as many as we can. She's so smart. She just soaks up everything." You realize you're gushing when Quinn's smile grows, but you don't care. Emily is the smartest kid you've ever met.

"I'll give you my phone number and you can call me whenever you want to go," Quinn offers, "Do you have time to stay for lunch? I was going to make sandwiches, but I can make something else if you'd like."

"Sandwiches sound good," you tell her. You can hear Emily having a good time and you don't want to have to take her away so soon. Plus, you're kinda glad to see Quinn. "Do you need any help? I can't like…cook but I can cut stuff."

Quinn throws her head back in a laugh, "Just like high school. Yeah you can cut the tomatoes."

After she sets you up with a knife and cutting board you get to work. She's off to the side cutting the mini sub rolls. "So," she says, "What's up with you and Britt?"

"You do you mean?" you know what she means. You just want to know what she knows before you say anything.

"I was just wondering what's going on," Quinn says glancing at you before going back to what she was doing, "Brittany won't tell me much. Just that you live together. I just assumed that as soon as you two caught up to each other that you'd be together again. Like you always were."

"Things change," you grit out. You don't want to have this conversation with Quinn now. Not after what happened last weekend in Lima and what happened last night in your bedroom.

"Don't worry S," Quinn offers, "I'm sure she'll come around. She always does."

"What?" you look questioningly at her.

Quinn looks confused, "She's not the one stopping you two from being together?"

You don't answer. You just look back down at your tomato. A soft "oh" from Quinn and you know that she knows. She doesn't add anything for a few seconds. You can hear Emily and the other girls laughing and running around.

You can practically hear Quinn thinking from your side of the kitchen and after another few seconds you can't take it anymore. You drop your knife onto the cutting board and turn around, "I'm not good for her okay?"

Quinn's eyes get wide and she looks absolutely bewildered. "Uh, um…" she blinks a few times and regains her bearings, "How so?"

"I'm just not. I never have been," you cross your arms, "I'm toxic or something and it's better if she just moves on."

Your friend picks up a hand towel and wipes off her hands turning toward you, "You want her to move on? To some other guy or girl?"

No. Never in a million years. But they may be able to give her something you can't. You're a stripper in a downward spiral and she's a dancer on way up. She could do so, so much better. You drop your head and mumble out the part about her being able to do better.

Quinn doesn't say anything. She walks over to you and envelopes you in her arms, "For as long as I can remember, I've been jealous of you both. You found your soul mate so early in life when most of us spend years searching. She's your one and you're hers. Why else would everything have turned out like it did?"

"What if I…" you swallow trying to keep tears down. You hate crying and you hate doing it in front of anyone, but most especially in front of Quinn Fabray. "What if I hurt her again?"

Quinn pulls away and looks into your eyes with a kind smile, "You two are so solid that no amount of hurt can come between you. Look at what's happened since you met each other. You've both been hurt, but you've both come back from it. Plus, you're adults now and you have a kid together. I don't see why you don't at least give it a shot."

"Okay," you step back and cross your arms again, "Let's say I do go back. We're together. When I fuck up what happens? What if you doesn't want to ever see me again? What if she doesn't want Emily to ever see me again either?"

"What if a meteor comes crashing through the ceiling at this moment?" Quinn smirks and shakes her head, "You can't keep playing the 'what if' game. You need to live you life. Let yourself be happy."

You're okay to just leave it at that. You turn back to your job and finish it off as Quinn is calling the children in to eat. You and Quinn have a civil lunch after that discuss her house and the weather, meaningless things like that.

After lunch, you take Emily home. She falls asleep in the car and you carry her up to the apartment. When you get inside, you find Brittany sitting at the dining room table, reading and eating an apple. She watches silently as you put Emily down in her bed.

When you emerge, her book is closed and the apple is down on the table. "Thanks for picking her up."

"No problem," you sigh and look at the clock. You don't have to leave to work for another five hours and you can't think of a good excuse to leave now. So you walk past her into the bedroom and fall onto the bed. Your second shoe hasn't even hit the ground when she follows you into the bedroom and sits on the far corner of the bed, her legs crossed, looking right at you.

"Quinn called," she says softly. She doesn't make a move to touch you, which by the mere fact that you realized means that she's starting to get to you.

You curl up into the pillows and look at her. She has her serious face on and her eyes intensely hold yours, "Oh yeah?"

Brittany nods, her eyes dropping to her hands in her lap, "I don't want you to be mad at her, but she told me some parts of what you said."

You groan and bury your face in the nearest pillow. You should have known that Fabray couldn't keep her big mouth shut.

"This is important Santana," Brittany says. You know by her use of your full name that it is in fact important. You look back up at her and wait for her to continue, "No matter what happens between us, I will _never_ try to take Emily away from you. She loves you so much and you're so great with her. You're so great together. She needs you," she pauses, "I'd never do that. To either one of you. I'll make it legal or whatever if you want. You're her mom too, ya know?"

Your mouth goes dry at her words. There is so much reassurance in what she says. You know it's the truth. You know that even if you royally fuck up, Emily will still be in your life. As much as you don't want to admit it, you need her. She gives you the much-needed purpose in your life. She gives you a reason for you to do, or not do, things. All you can manage is a, "Thanks."

"I love you San," Brittany crawls up the bed and lays her head down next to yours. "I'm not going to kiss you because I'm scared that I went too far, too fast last night, but can I give you a hug?"

How can you say no to that? Saying it like that makes you want to kiss her all that much more. You open your arms and she slips in, wrapping her arms around you. You swallow and close your eyes because they're starting to sting with tears. You squeeze her in your arms as the tears overwhelm your eyes, "I'm so scared." It comes out as a whisper, but you know that she heard you.

She gathers you in a firmer hold and places a chaste kiss on your neck, "It's okay. This time I'll be the brave one." 


	12. Chapter 12

You didn't remember falling asleep, but now you're awake and you're alone in bed. You sort of relieved. You don't know what happened, but it can't happen again. You can't get caught up in everything that is Brittany because you will cave. You know it.

You look to the window and find that it's dark outside. You wonder where Brittany is. You don't like her being out alone after dark especially with Emily. You roll out of bed and grab your phone off of the nightstand where it was charging. You know you didn't plug it in.

As you walk to the door of the bedroom, you shake your head trying to shake the feeling that Brittany is so ingrained in your life that there's no way to shake _her_. Every time she does something like that, something simple and small like that….she just…you don't want to think about it. The more you think about it, the more you fall for her all over again.

And when you walk into the living room you know that you're going to have a problem. The chairs have been moved from the table and are arranged in a triangle in the living room with a sheet draped over them. You have a feeling you know who is sitting in the little tent giggling.

When you look at the clock you find that it's almost ten o'clock. So much for work tonight. You shoot a quick text to the manager and tell him that you won't be in. You walk to the kitchen because your stomach is growling. You try to make little noise because you don't want to disturb the two girls in the tent.

You dig out some spaghetti left over from dinner a few nights ago and dump it into a bowl. Putting it in the microwave draws attention to yourself, so you look down at your phone like you're reading something instead of just staring at the buttons and background like you're expecting something to pop up any second.

After grabbing some water and your now hot bowl of spaghetti, you walk over to the table where the sole chair left over from tent construction sits. You sit down and actually do look something up on your phone. You think it's a good idea to take Emily to a museum or something with Quinn and her nieces. You always feel like you're not really doing much good for Emily so maybe interaction with other little kids will do her some good.  
>You read a few new stories before you decide that it's too much of a downer at this point. You drain your water and set the glass down. You take a bite of your spaghetti and catch up on the latest red carpet fashion. Halfway into another bite, your glass is lifted off of the table, refilled and replaced. You drop your head and finish what's in your mouth, "I could have done that."<p>

"I know," she says and leans on the table next to you, "We're going to get ice cream in a few minutes. Wanna come?"

Wanna go watch them be ridiculously adorable while they eat their ice cream while trying to simultaneously not fall in love with Brittany? Not really. Are you going to go? Of course. They're not going out by themselves. Especially on a Saturday night. "Yeah. Just let me finish this." You use your fork to point at your bowl.

Brittany smiles, "Also, do you mind if we rent some movies too and watch them on your laptop in our bed?"

You don't know why, but her use of the word 'our' strikes you weird. You fight a smile off of your face because it is a bed you both use and occasionally share. There's no reason for the weird smile on your face. You nod, "That's fine."

"Great," Brittany rests her hand on your shoulder, subtly stroking your sink for a few seconds before walking back to the tent, "Who wants ice cream?"

After getting ice cream and movies you're now all in your pajamas laying in the bed, watching a stereotypical Disney movie. Brittany is laying on her side and Emily is laying on her side, facing Brittany. You're kinda propped up on the wall behind the bed, reading a book you picked up. It's rubbish so far, but you're hoping it'll get better.

As you're nearing chapter five, you feel fingertips graze your side. You look down and see Brittany smiling at you, lightly rubbing your side. "You okay?" she whispers.

You nod. You look at her for a little too long and you find yourself wanting to lean down and kiss her. Just the top of her head in a show of appreciation for her concern. Then you'd want to kiss her soft lips and that would only lead down a road you're not ready for.

You turn back to your book with a sigh, but her fingers continue to stroke your side. You can feel their heat halfway through chapter six and by chapter seven your shirt has ridden up and she's stroking your bare skin. You let out a shaky breath before looking down at the sleeping child between you. You decide that now is the time to move so you put the book down and slide off of the bed. You scoop Emily up in your arms and carry her to bed.

She snuggles into her pillow in her sleep and you kiss her forehead with a smile. When you get back to your bedroom, it's dark. The light of the lamps and laptop is gone. You can see Brittany laying in the bed and you don't want to go lay down next to her, exposed and vulnerable to her again. But you do.

"Truth or dare," she says after a few minutes of silence.

You look up at the ceiling, "Truth."

"Do you want to kiss me?"

You don't want to give her an outright yes, but you don't want to outright lie to her so you settle for, "Sometimes."

"It's your turn," she says.

You smirk, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

You lull your head to the side to look in her direction. You can make out her features in the dark and see her eyes sparkling in the light from the city outside of the window, "You're really not scared that I'll hurt you?"

"No," she states. "Truth or dare."

"Dare," you spurt out, knowing that truth only leads down a dangerous trail.

"I dare you to give me your hand," she says.

You decide that dares are more dangerous than truths, but you said it so you're going to suffer the consequences. You offer your hand to her and she gently takes it. Your breath hitches when you feel her kiss your palm then place your hand on her cheek before dragging it to the back of her neck. She tilts her head toward yours and her forehead touches yours.

"Truth or dare," she murmurs.

You don't even notice that it's your turn, not hers. You know that dare is a worse bet than truth. So you whisper, "Truth."

"Do you want me?" she rests a hand on your hip and inches her body closer to yours.

Your whole body is hot and you can feel her touches singe your skin. Her touch and her scent, her eyes in the lights from outside the window…you can't think properly. You can't even formulate words. You nod subtly, but she sees it. Finally you get the hang of words again, "Truth or dare."

"Dare," she husks out and all the breath is stolen from you. The way she says it makes you swallow and close your eyes. You can feel her breath on your lips. It's slow and even and all you want to do it close the distance between you.

But you can't. You can't give in. You have to stay strong, but you want her touch so bad. "I dare you to give me your hand."

She doesn't hesitate offering it to you. You take it between your hands and move it down to your waist. With your hand on the outside of hers you guide her hand under your shirt and across the smooth expanse of your stomach before moving to your back. You can feel your heart beating all over your body. You bite your lip, but can't stop a moan. The things she does to you aren't fair at all. This touch is fairly innocent, but it turns you on so much.

"Truth or dare," she whispers, still not closing the distance between your lips.

"Truth," you finally let your eyes open as her hand becomes stationary on your back.

She finds your eyes in the darkness and asks, "Do you love me?"

Your eyes fall shut again. This time trying to block tears. She shouldn't have to ask you that. You don't want her to think that you don't love her. You're not with her because you love her. You nod, "So much."

Her hand starts moving again this time trailing up your stomach within an inch of the bottom of your bra before down to a few inches above your pants. Your hand on the back of her neck pulls her into you. Your noses graze each other, but you can't seem to let yourself kiss her. "Truth or dare."

"Truth," she trails her fingertips lightly up your side.

You're going to ask a question you're not sure you're ready for the answer to, but you just let go and do it, "Why do you love me?"

Her fingers stop moving and she looks thoughtfully back at you. "Because I can't stop. I don't think there's any reason. It's everything. I love everything about you."

You should have expected the perfect answer. It was so Brittany too. So open and honest. When she asks you 'truth or dare' you pick dare.

"Kiss me," she says and her hand that's not dancing across your stomach, tangling itself in your hair.

You shake your head, "I-I can't. I can't hurt you again."

"You're not scared that I'll hurt you again?" she asks. Sure she's hurt you her fair share of times, but to be honest the thought never crossed your mind. You want to shield her from your mistakes. From your life. You don't want her to be exposed to your recurring failures and downfalls.

"No," you finally answer, "I can't stand to hurt you again."

"So don't," Brittany states, cupping your cheek, "Tell me that you'll go on a date with me and we won't hurt each other. We're adults now. It can work now."

"You're an adult," you state, "I'm some fucked up mess between teenager and adult and I can't get out. I don't even know…who I am."

"You're Santana Lopez," she smiles and just as you're about to open your mouth and tell her that's not what you meant, she adds, "You're strong and beautiful and so smart. You're a great dancer and my favorite singer. You're my best friend and you'll be my girlfriend. We're like…we're meant for each other. You said so in high school."

You drop your head on her shoulder and close your eyes, "Britt, this is…it's so hard."

"I'm here okay?" she pulls away from you and catches your eyes, "We can work this out together. You have to let me help you."

There so much love in her eyes that you feel like you're about to implode. You must have nodded because she's smiling at you. She finally kisses you. It's slow and soft and still innocent.

Then she pulls you against her, wrapping her arms around you. "I love you Santana."

The next morning, when you wake up she's in the kitchen making pancakes. She acts like everything is normal between you two which you know there's never really a normal-normal. Just a Santana normal which is never really all the normal to begin with. You just don't want it to be awkward specially in front of Emily.

When you pour your coffee you can hear her humming. After listening as you pour some sugar in your coffee you finally recognize the song. "I'm In Love With A Stripper." You chuckle to yourself and shake your head. She's adorable.

After breakfast, Brittany goes to a meeting, with a kiss on the head for you and Emily. She asks you out as you're walking her to the door. Instead of the standard no, you tell her, "Maybe later."

Her eyes light up and she jumps at you, trapping you in a hug. She must have deemed that as progress. Who knows? Maybe it is.

After she's gone, you walk over to the table where Emily is sitting and eating her breakfast, "What do you want to do today?"

She grins under a milk mustache, "Can we go to the museum with my friends?"

You can't say no to this child so you give her a smile and tell her that you'll call Quinn to see if they can make it. She jumps out of her chair and bounds into your arms, "Yay!"

You laugh. If you keep getting hugs like this you may end up telling them both yes before long. You reach up and tickle Emily's sides. Her laughter makes you laugh as well, it's so infectious. "Stop, stop, stop," she chants between breaths so you pull back and let her catch her breath. Then she gives you another hug and says, "Tickle me again."

You tickle her again until she says stop and then go into her room with her to find her something to wear while you finish your coffee and call Quinn.

"So when are you going to tell her yes?" Quinn asks, as you follow the children around the museum. "I mean she's been asking you out for what? Months?"

"Who says I'm going to tell her yes?" you ask, rattling the ice around in your cup.

Quinn quirks an eyebrow, "Really? You're not going to stay yes after all of this? She's been incredible. What do you want from her? Do you want flowers or jewelry because she'd marry you right now without hesitation."

You tap your fingers on the railing of the observation deck. "I still don't think it's a good idea."

"When five people think it's a good idea and you don't, it's time to reevaluate your position."

"Five people?" You look over at Emily who is looking through a telescope that looks across the river. Quinn's nieces bounce at her sides, waiting for their turns.

Quinn leans on the rain next to you and looks out over the buildings around you. "Me, Brittany, Mandy, Brittany's dad and your Abuelo. Six if you count Emily."

"How do you know that what my Abuelo thinks?"

"Brittany told me." Quinn turns around and leans back on the railing, her hands at her sides.

You toss your cup into a nearby trashcan and add, "Call me when it's ten to one and I'll reconsider."

"I can find four more people that think it's a good idea in the next ten minutes," there's a challenge in Quinn's eyes. One that you could never resist.

You shake your head, "No you can't."

Her signature cocky smirk graces her lips, "Of course I can."

"Wanna bet?"

"Yes. If I find four people in the next ten minutes you have to say yes next time Brittany asks you out."

Okay you didn't really mean 'do you want to bet?' But really how many people can she get a hold of in the next ten minutes, "What do I get if I win?"

She shrugs, retrieving her phone from her coat pocket, "Whatever you want."

"I want you to tell Brittany that I'm a bad idea," you say, but even as the words come out of your mouth they hurt you.

"Done. Time starts now." She announces the beginning of this thing and you set the timer on your phone. Not that you think she can actually do it. It's just that in case she does call everyone in her phone book, she's not getting the benefit of more time then she bet.

After thirty seconds she hands you the phone. It's the distinct voice of Noah Puckerman, "Say yes Santana. You and Brittany are like made for each other and junk." You hand the phone back. Fine, but that was just one.

Another minute later you hear, "Although we dated in high school, Brittany always wanted you. She always talked about you. You both really do belong together." Artie Abrams? How does Quinn still talk to all these people.

Two minutes later, "Santana I've been teaching for a long time and I've never seen two people with a bond as strong as yours and Brittany's. I'm going to have to differ to Quinn and say that you and Brittany should at least try it." WTF? Mr. Schue? Quinn has his phone number? Creeeeepy. Wait that's nine people already. You're starting to panic. Quinn's a sneaky bitch. She must have had all these people sitting around by their phones. She knew that you couldn't resist her challenge. This was all part of her master plan. You just pray that the tenth person doesn't pick up or actually thinks that you and Brittany together is a disaster waiting to happen.

Five minutes and Quinn has been on the phone with the same person for the last three of them. "Uh huh... I see... I understand...yes... Of course." Finally you get the phone and Rachel Berry gives you a long winded rant about how you should never pass up true love because you'll never know if you'll have it again and blah blah blah blah blah. The same thing happens that did in high school and your brain switches off. Quinn lifts the phone from your hand and tells Rachel she'll call her later before hanging up.

You look at your phone and see that she still had twenty-eight seconds left of her ten minutes. She shove your phone back into your pocket. Quinn learned way too much from Coach Sylvester.

"I win," Quinn grins triumphantly. She sends someone a text while you brood against the railing with your arms crossed. You've been had. You guess some people never change. Quinn's still as conniving and sneaky as ever.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you're almost sure that it's the text Quinn just sent. Probably gloating. A finite way that you can always read that she won. However you find it's from Brittany. _Will you go on a date with me?_

You look up at Quinn who grins wickedly before walking over to the children. Of course she told Brittany the second she won. A bet is a bet right? You take a deep breath and watch your shaking fingers type out the message. _Yes._


	13. Chapter 13

On the way home you and Emily have an extensive conversation about musical instruments and how they make their various noises. By the time you get home, you're pretty sure you're going to end up buying her a large collection of instruments. You wish that you hadn't quit taking piano lessons when you were little, maybe you could teach her a thing or two. Add another bullet on your list of things you regret.

When you open the front door, Emily runs inside to go to the bathroom and you take your time locking the door. As you step farther into the apartment, you see Brittany in the kitchen chuckling to herself. At Emily no doubt.

She sees you and a special smile takes place on her face. It's a special _finally _smile. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't really have to.

You drop your keys and purse on the table, trying to think of something to say. Something completely unrelated to the date, but something so it won't be horribly awkward. You settle for, "I hope she passes out soon. She's exhausting."

Brittany smiles as she dries the dishes, "You can go take a nap. I'll watch her."

Before you can answer, Emily comes bounding out of the bedroom and poses dramatically, "I wanna dance!"

You can't stop a laugh and neither can Brittany. When the older blonde goes to get the music set up, Emily pulls you to the living room and demands that you start dancing. You and Emily gyrate around the living room and soon Brittany joins you.

When a slow song comes on, Emily runs to her room and grabs a doll to dance with. That leaves you and Brittany in the living room by yourselves. She gives you a gentle smile and offers you her hand. Emily's watching so you can't not take it. When you do, Brittany pulls you to her and holds one of your hands up in the air and rests her other hand on your waist. You slip your free hand around to rest gently on the back of her neck.

"Are you free Tuesday night?" she asks quietly.

"Every Tuesday night," you tell her. You took off Tuesday nights so that you could watch Emily. She knows that. She's just being formal. You find it ridiculously cute.

She steps forward so that you're closer to each other and grazes her cheek against yours, "I'll pick you up as soon as I get off of work."

"Okay," you breathe out. You still don't know how you're going to handle this date thing. You don't know if you're going to be aloof or if you're going to take is seriously. If you're going to dress up or go casual. At least you have a few days to figure it out.

"Are you nervous?" she asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You pause before answering honestly. She deserves at least that. "Yeah."

"Don't be," she steps back so she can look at you properly, "It'll be fun. I promise."

"You already know what we're doing?" you ask her.

A slow smile grows on her face that tells you the answer to your question before she nods. "Of course."

"Did you get Quinn to trick me?" you quirk an eyebrow.

"No. I got lucky," she gently pushes you away so that she can spin you before pulling you back. Emily laughs at that and tries to mimic the action with her doll. A faster song comes on and Brittany drops her hand that's on your waist, but continues to hold your other hand.

The dancing has become increasingly tiring for you, so you excuse yourself to take a nap after a while. You pass out almost immediately and wake up a few hours later to some soft noises around the room.

You roll onto your back and see Brittany moving about the room, putting clothes up in your shared closet and moving back to the basket of clean clothes on the bed to start folding them. She notices you looking at her and gives you a smile, "I didn't mean to wake you up."

You check your phone and find that it's almost time for you to run to work. "It's good that you did." You stretch and roll off of the bed onto your feet. After a quick once over of the closet you turn around and ask, "Did you wash my green jacket?"

Brittany digs around in the clothes and pulls it out. She hands it to you and you thank her as you slip it on. It disturbs you how domestic that just felt. It's so easy. She continues folding your clothes like it's the most natural thing in the world. Everything comes out in three piles: Hers, yours, and not sure. There are a few shirts or shorts that neither one of you can remember so they go in a stack between your respective clothes in the closet.

"Did you take Emily with you to do the laundry?" you ask her.

Brittany nods, "Yeah. She taught me the game that you two play when you do laundry."

"The adding game?" you ask tilting your head, "You don't remember playing that when we were kids?"

Brittany shakes her head. "Are you sure it wasn't Quinn?"

You think about it and you were sure it was Brittany. You just shrug, "I'm pretty sure it was me. We played it that one time we were waiting for Mandy to get the cast on her arm."

"Oh yeah," Brittany smiles, "Then you wouldn't talk to me for the rest of the time we were in the waiting room because I won."

"Oh sure you remember that part," you smile back at her. When you see her laugh your whole body warms. This feels so good and so right. Just being around Brittany makes you happy. At this point you're fighting a losing battle. You're fighting Quinn's ten people and Brittany's killer smile. You're fighting Emily's sparkling eyes and the pull that you've felt since you met Brittany. You're fighting a living arrangement that offers you no escape and at least two shared meals a day. You're fighting shared responsibilities, a shared child and a shared bed. It's a lot for any person to take on, even someone who is already ready to fight.

You find that Tuesday comes more quickly than you expect. You're nervous. You've been going over all the clothes in your closet as you walk with Emily through the park. She's feeding the ducks and you're doing your best to pick out an outfit while avoiding the little waddling demons. You don't understand kids fascination with ducks. They're ugly and completely terrifying. Not that you admit the latter. Not that you're hiding behind Emily who laughs as she throws bread at them.

You've decided to treat this as a regular date because Brittany's going through all the trouble of planning everything. You're just going to go along with what she wants to do and then when you get home you'll try to maintain your distance from her.

She told you to wear jeans. You don't actually know why. Maybe it'll be cold. Maybe you're riding horses. Maybe it's just that your ass looks fabulous in them and she just wants a change to check it out. You like to think it's the last one.

You're pretty much already dressed for the date. You made sure that you could go the second you got home because you don't know when she's going to get home or, depending on the traffic you'll encounter on the way back from dropping Emily off with Quinn, when you'll get home.

After dropping Emily off, you find yourself alone in the apartment. It's edging up on five so Brittany will be getting off soon. You're a little freaked out now. This is like a legit first date. You're nervous, you're trying to decide if you forgot to do anything when you were getting ready, you're pacing. You stop the pacing as soon as you realize it and sit at the table.

Ten minutes later there's a knock on the front door. You wonder who the hell it is. No one comes to your apartment except for the Thai delivery guy and the pizza delivery girl. When you swing the door open, you find Brittany there smiling with a bouquet of white roses in her hand.

She offers them to your wordlessly and you accept them with a face splitting grin. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she rocks from the balls of her feet onto her heels, "So are you ready?"

"Just let me put these in here," you take the flowers and set them on the counter in the kitchen. Then you grab your purse as you follow her out the door.

She refuses to tell you where you're going and pulls you onto the train close to your apartment and off of the train in the Bronx. You wonder what could possibly here, but when you find yourself in a river of people walking in the same direction all wearing similar colors, you figure it out.

"Yankees game?" you ask with a smirk.

She just takes your hand, lacing your fingers together and pulls you faster inside. She extracts two tickets from her purse and you two make it into the stadium with ease. Your seats are in a sparsely occupied section of the stadium, out on the right field foul line. There is no one in front of you or to either side, which you find to be nice.

Just before the first pitch, Brittany takes off and returns with two beers and three hotdogs as well as a Yankees baseball cap that she puts on your head. You don't remember smiling this much on the last few dates you've been on and the game hasn't even started yet.

"Why did you pick a Yankees game?" you ask her before you take a sip of your beer.

She shrugs, "You don't really like fancy dates unless it's someone's birthday or something." She grins, "And you need to have more fun. I love it when you smile."

She's so right. The last date you went on was to some weird French restaurant. The girl seemed like she was trying way too hard which she totally was. You like that Brittany's in jeans and a blue and white t-shirt with a light jacket. You like that you're wearing a baseball hat and it's not awkward. You like that you're drinking beer and eating hotdogs. It's easy. It's fun. You're so relaxed.

You take the hat off of your head and put it on Brittany's head. She's the one that loves hats and you're scared that you'll get hat hair. She smiles and leans over to kiss your cheek. It's so sweet. You finish your hotdogs a couple pitches into the first inning and you take your turn running to the concession stand. When you're walking back with the nachos and more beer, you see a guy leaning forward talking to Brittany. You narrow your eyes as you descend the steps.

You see her point at you and smile. They guy's mouth drops a fraction and you just smirk. Fuck yeah asshole, she's taken. But not like…taken-taken. This is just a date, but still she's date-taken. Long story short, the dude needs to leave.

When you take your seat, the guy sits back in his seat. You ask Brittany what's going on with your eyes and she just gives you a smile, "He asked me if he could buy me a drink."

"And you said?" you ask, handing her a beer.

"My girlfriend was already getting me one," she smirks and kisses you before you can react. You glance back at the guy and he's giving you a pervy smile. You roll your eyes and face forward.

After a few inning and a few cups of beer you're feeling ridiculously relaxed. Your head is on Brittany's shoulder as you watch the game and her arm is around you. Since this is a date (and you've had a lot to drink) you're going to let it slide.

"This is the best date I've been on in a long time," you say against your better judgment.

She rests the side of her head on yours, "That's sad San."

"No," you tell her, "This is just…it's chill and I'm not worried about eating with the right fork or tipping the waitress."

She smiles, "It's because you're not trying to impress me. I know that you snore when you're really tired and when you get tired everything you say is mumbles."

You laugh and sit up, "And you don't have to impress me because I know that you take _forever_ in the shower and…"

She interrupts you by pointing up at the screen on the scoreboard. It's the infamous kiss cam and guess who is in the middle of the screen. You can see her looking at you in the screen and there's a big grin on her face.

You lull your head toward her and hope to be just one of the people who refuses to bend to the will of the mass that wants you to kiss. Of course Brittany has other ideas. She takes off her hat and uses it a shield from the camera when she kisses you.

You can hear the dull roar of applause, but all you care about if her lips on yours. There's no tongue and it's an innocent kiss, but it still sets your whole body on fire. When she pulls back, the hat falls too and you can't stop your smile.

The kiss cam has moved on to another unsuspecting couple and you're left to just stare at her. There's so much love in her eyes, in her whole body that just pulls you in. That coupled with the kiss and the beer…it's a bad combination and a voice inside your head is telling you not to give in. You've come so far keeping your distance. You can't give up now.

Just as you're struggling to put up the shambles of your emotional walls, you feel her fingers in your hair. She pulls your head back toward her, but she just places a gentle kiss on your forehead. Then she rests her forehead against yours and whispers, "I love you."

Your walls come crashing back down. You feel so vulnerable with her. She knows the ins and outs of your defenses and she knows you better than anyone else ever has and probably ever will.

She doesn't kiss you again. She slips her arm behind yours and leans into you, lacing your fingers together. You stay like that for the remainder of the game. When it's over, you wait in the stands for a while either because you don't want to break this contact or you're just waiting for the lines to die down. It's probably a little of both.

You've done a lot of thinking over the past few innings. You know that as much as you want to not be in love with her, you are. As much self-control as you have, it's getting harder and harder to resist her. You could move out, but you won't leave Emily. You're just going to stay the course you're on now and take things as they come.

You walk into your apartment and turn around figuring that Brittany would be behind you. She pauses in the doorway with a smile on her face. You quirk an eyebrow, "What are you doing?"

"I'm dropping you off," she smiles. She's taking this date thing a little far and you're about to say so when she adds, "I'm going to go pick up Emily. She has school tomorrow."

"Oh," you nod and stop taking off your jacket. You shrug it back on, "Do you want me to come?"

A smile flickers on her face and she dips her head to compose herself. You know why that smile is there and you cross your arms in an attempt to be offended. If she were anyone else you would have called them a perv, but like everything else, perverted become adorable on Brittany.

You try a reword and ask, "Would you like me to accompany you?"

She giggles and shakes her head, "I'll get her. You get some sleep." She steps out of the apartment and closes the door.

You were expecting some kind of goodnight kiss or something and you're sorely disappointed that you didn't get one. You shouldn't be, but you are. You sigh and take off your jacket. Then you take a quick shower, change and get into bed. You're not going to sleep until you know that they're both home safe and sound so you pick up one of the books on Brittany's night stand and start reading.

About half an hour later, you hear the front door open. After a series of footsteps, you hear the door to Emily's room hit the wall behind it with a soft thud. She must be asleep because she usually runs into your room screaming your name like an adorable banshee.

When Brittany walks in, she looks exhausted. She takes off her jacket and starts to hang it up, but you move to her side and take it from her. You tell her to go take a shower and you'll hang it up. She smiles sleepily and kisses your cheek.

Once she's in the shower, you go check on Emily. She's sleeping peacefully on her bed, sprawled out all over the place. You smooth her blonde hair away from her face and kiss her forehead, "Sweet dreams, sweetheart." You flip on her nightlight and walk out.

Then you pick up the dirty clothes in the bedroom floor that Brittany shed on the way to the shower. You toss them in the dirty clothes to do tomorrow. You crawl back into the bed and let out a smile when you can see the Yankees cap sticking out of Brittany's purse. A souvenir from your first date. Well your third first date.

She walks into the bedroom in a towel to grab some clothes. You duck your head under the cover a split second before the towel drops and save yourself from the mouthwatering naked woman in the room. You can hear Brittany laughing and she tugs the covers off of your head. You let go of them and find that she slipped into some shorts and a tank top already.

"You've seen me naked before," she says. You don't really have a retort to that. Yes you have seen her naked before. You want to do it again, but at the same time you don't want to. Luckily she doesn't wait for a reply. She slips under the covers and settles in mere centimeters from you.

You pull the blankets up to your chin and close your eyes. When she whispers a goodnight, you answer, "Goodnight babe." Then your eyes shoot open. It slipped out. You didn't mean to call her babe. You hope she didn't catch it but the small victorious smile on her face tells you that she heard it.

You try to disappear into your pillow and pull the blankets over your head again with a groan. She laughs and drapes an arm around your blanket-covered waist. You can feel her nuzzle into the back of your neck. "I love you," she whispers.

When you pull the blanket off of your face, you feel a light kiss to the back of your neck and she settles in behind you for the rest of the night. She may have one this round…well the last few rounds, but tomorrow is a new day.


	14. Chapter 14

There have been no more dates, not for lack of trying on Brittany's part. She's back to asking you out every single day and you're back to turning her down.

This morning though, she hasn't said much of anything. She's dressed for her a hearing regarding the lawsuit Richie brought against her. She looks nervous and you wish that you could go with her. But you have to stay here to drop off and pick up Emily from school. Quinn's out of town and bringing Emily to the courthouse is definitely out of the question. You don't want her anywhere near that asshole again.

She's biting her lip and staring at the kitchen counter when you walk in to make Emily's lunch. You're worried about her so you put your hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

She immediately nods, but you know that it's not true. She's freaking out. You lean sideways against the counter. "Hey," you say softly to get her attention. Once she's made eye contact you continue, "No matter what happens we'll be okay. I promise. We'll figure it out."

Her face is a little relieved at your words and she wraps her arms around your shoulders. You hold her around the waist and rub her back. You don't want her to be worried and you're worried about her so all thoughts of keeping a distance from her are momentarily gone.

When you pull back you offer her a smile, "C'mon I'll drop you at the courthouse on the way to drop Emily off."

She lets out a smile and thanks you. You just shrug it off and make Emily's lunch. Once you're all in the car, you pull into traffic, but keep glancing sideways at Brittany who looks like she's still freaking out. It doesn't take long before you drop her off in front of the courthouse. It takes her a little while to get out of the car, but when you take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze she walks up to the courthouse steps a little more confidently.

You glance back at the rugrat in the backseat and find her contently humming to herself. You know where her school is because you'd driven past it, but you've never been inside. When you walk her in, the school is intimidating in all its grandeur. The walls are paneled with a dark wood and the hallways are not lined with the white tiles of all the schools you went to. It's a swirled marble that makes you feel guilty for walking on it.

Emily drags you to her classroom, pointing out every bathroom and water fountain between the front door and your destination. As you continue to walk, you can see why Brittany would want to make sure that Emily got to stay here. This is a school that every parent dreams of sending their kids to.

When you get to the classroom, Emily drags you inside and shows you her desk. There are other parents and who you guess are nannies dropping their children off. A woman walks up to you with a smile, "Hi I'm Katrina, Emily's teacher." She doesn't look like any elementary school teacher that you've ever seen. She's on the younger side with light brown hair and clothes that you're sure were bought in the last year. Why didn't you go to a school like this? God knows your parents could have afforded it. You got the whole public school, older than god teachers who don't really like children anymore. And the young idealists who wore vests from second hand stores, not that you're going to name names.

You're not sure how to introduce yourself. Hi I'm Santana, I used to date Emily's mom in high school, but now we're just kinda living together. Hi I'm Santana, I'm sorta dating Emily's mom, but not really….I mean it's complicated. Right now you're close to saying, Hi I'm Santana, Emily's nanny.

Before you can spit anything out, Emily announces, "This is 'Tana."

"Tana?" the teacher asks, looking from Emily to you.

"Santana," you correct her.

A smile spreads across her face, "Oh Emily has told me so much about you."

"Oh no," you breathe and look down at the little girl grinning up at you. You're almost positive that she could get away with murder if she grinned at the jury like that.

"Oh it's all great," Katrina says, "Everything that she says about you. You're her hero."

You look questioningly down at Emily, but she's already chattering away to one of her little friends. When you meet the eyes of her teacher she's still smiling. This lady is way too friendly for you so you set Emily's lunch down on the desk next to her backpack. She gives you a long hug and you tell her that you'll pick her up after school.

When you walk out you let out a sigh. Talking to teachers never gets any easier, especially when they're nice and smiling at you.

You go home and do some laundry. You clean as best as you can because Mandy's going to be here this upcoming weekend for her International competition, which happens to coincide with Emily's birthday. She and Brittany are in charge of whatever plans to hang out together. You're just going to try to figure out how to keep her from finding out your occupation. If Brittany's mom ever got a hold of that information, any shred of hope you had for her ever being civil to you would be gone.

You get a call from Brittany as you're driving to pick up Emily. She's done for the day. The attorney said that it looks good. You can hear that she's a little shaken up. You glance at the clock and decide that you have enough time to pick up Brittany first. You don't want to risk Emily seeing Richie or the other way around. Plus, you want a chance to calm her down before you pick up Emily. Having one of them upset is bad enough. Emily picks up on Brittany's moods better than anyone.

Brittany's attorney is standing with her as you pull up to the curb. Brittany's arms are crossed and she doesn't look happy at all. Then you see why the attorney is standing with her. Richie is standing on a curb a few yards away hailing a cab. You really, really want run him over with your car two, three, or fifty times.

But before you get a chance to hit the gas, the attorney opens the door for Brittany and she gets in. With a parting smile to her attorney the door closes and you put as much distance between her and Richie as fast as you can.

"You okay?" you ask her, taking a deep breath to calm your won rapid heartbeats.

She numbly nods and you let her sit in silence to calm down on her own until you park in front of Emily's school. Then you turn in your seat to look at her and take her hand closest to you. You can feel the tiny vibrations in her hand. You look at her and you can't tell if she's mad or frightened or both. You're just really worried at this point.

"Britt, what's wrong?" you ask, holding her eyes.

She takes a deep breath and puts some of her hair behind her ear, "It's just…seeing Richie freaks me out a little. He's so different than I remember him."

You stroke her knuckles with your thumb, "We'll be okay. No matter what."

She smiles and holds your hand firmer. You feel like she's about to kiss you and you can't pull out of the stare. Until there's a tiny rapping at the back window. You turn around and see the top of Emily's head peaking over the window. With a laugh you get out and open the door for her. She tosses in her backpack that's almost bigger than her and climbs in.

"Santana."

You turn around and Katrina is looking at you holding Emily's lunch box. "Oh thanks."

"No problem," she smiles. "Have a nice afternoon."

You look at Brittany with wide eyes and she just giggles. When you slip into the car, she says, "I think she likes you."

You glance back to Emily and makes sure she's not listening when you whisper back, "Well if she liked me a little less, I'd be okay with it."

Brittany smirks, "Me too."

When you get home you get back to the domesticity of it all. You fold the laundry while Brittany does the dishes. Emily's sitting on the bed telling you about her day and about a boy at her school keeps following her around. You can see Brittany looking at you through the bedroom door with a look of warning. You roll you eyes that she knew that you were going to tell Emily to punch him in the nose.

"When are you allowed to date?" you ask her.

Emily grins up at you, "When I'm thirty."

You pat her on the head, "Perfect."

After you all finish the chores, Brittany makes dinner while you and Emily watch Aladdin on your computer. You offer to help, but Brittany refuses. She seems really concentrated and unusually quiet so you leave her to it, but keep a close eye on her.

When you finish dinner you have to wrestle Brittany out of the kitchen so that you can do the dishes. You manage to get her into the bedroom and throw her onto the bed. She pulls you down with her a smile on her face. You tumble on top of her and she locks her arms around your waist.

You start to get up, but she holds tights and rolls you onto your side. She buries her face in your neck and sighs. You run your fingers through her hair, "You okay?"

She nods, "I just…" she looks at you and lets out a small smile, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd be fine," you assure her. Maybe even better off, but you don't add that part. You know she wouldn't like it.

She leans forward and rests her forehead against yours. Her fingertips rest against your cheek and she takes a deep breath, "I love you."

You get caught up in the moment. The one where it's just you and her and nothing else. Where she's laying next to you, caressing your cheek and holding your eyes. You bite back the 'I love you too' that's on the tip of your tongue, but instead tilt your head up and let your lips brush against her forehead.

She holds you tighter against her, your shirt balled up in her fists. You feel a soft nip at your neck and your muscles contract. When she softly kisses your neck, you sigh and pull back, "Britt."

"I know," she scrunches her mouth to one side. She studies your face and says, "I want to kiss you."

You don't know what to say that that. Your heart is hammering and you feel your lips tingle at the mere thought. You push her hair away from her face and shake your head, "Not right now okay?"

When her eyes meet yours, you see a glimmer of hope that you just ignited. Sure you didn't say no, but you didn't say yes either. You didn't give her a date and time. You didn't say never. You just can't stand to see her sad, especially right now.

She pulls close to you against and rests her head under your chin. With a heavy sigh she adds, "My parents are coming."

Your while body tenses and almost before it happens, Brittany's hand splays out on your stomach, rubbing soothing circles through the fabric. You can't believe that no one has told you yet. That seems like vital piece of information. Especially when plane tickets out of the state would have been a lot cheaper last week.

She continues because your reaction pretty much said it all, "I know I should have told you sooner, but I didn't want you to freak out and leave or something. Especially with Richie and everything. I didn't want you to be stressed out."

It takes you a minute to completely realize that she was thinking of you in all this. Her ex-boyfriend is suing her and her mom and sister are coming to town and she's worried about you. You look down at her and say, "Hey."

She looks up at you and when she meets your eyes you kiss her. It's a simple peck on the lips and probably way more than you should have done, but you don't know how else to express how much she means to you or how much her love really gets to you even though you like to pretend that it doesn't.

"Mommy?" you hear Emily call from the doorway. She's standing there in her pajamas, an obviously not matching pink top and blue bottoms.

Brittany sits up, "What baby?"

"When is Aunt Mandy coming?" she walks over and crawls up onto the bed, laying between you.

"Thursday," Brittany answers, straightening out Emily's shirt.

You stare at the ceiling. At least they're staying at the Waldorf and not here. Not like there's anywhere for them to stay anyway. You turn to Brittany, "Are you going to dinner with them on Thursday?"

"You're not going?" she asks, obviously disappointed. Then you look down at Emily and see that she's awaiting your answer at well.

You cave to the enormous pressure of the blue eyes and fall back onto you back, "Of course I am."

Brittany smiles and looks down at Emily, "Ready for bed?"

Emily nods and slides out of the bed onto the floor. You get up and follow them to Emily's room. Once Emily is under the covers and Brittany is sitting on the floor next to the bed, telling her a story, you go back into the kitchen and start washing the dishes.

You get so lost in the mindless easy of washing the dishes that you don't notices Brittany slide up next to you until you're done. When you do see her you jump and put your hand over your now racing heart. "Jesus Britt."

She just grins and slips her arms around your waist. You allow it because you're tired. You don't lean into her like you'd like to. That would send the wrong signal. Of course every single signal you send her contradicts the last. You have no idea what you're doing. You just know that you have to keep her away. You have to. Absolutely have to.

You reach into the cabinet behind you, breaking away from Brittany to get a glass. Or maybe you were getting a glass to break away from Brittany. Who really knows what you're doing or why you're doing it anymore?

"Did you get Emily anything for her birthday yet?" Brittany leans on the counter her chin cradled in her palm.

You fill up your glass as you nod, "I got her some books and one of the dolls that she wanted. Not the one that you change the diaper on it. That's disgusting. I'm not cleaning up fake baby poop."

Brittany laughs and stands up straight. She offers her pinkie to you and you look at it for a second, debating the pros and cons of doing it before staring just a little too long into her eyes and linking yours to hers. She smiles even wider and swings your hands between you as you walk into the bedroom.

In the dark after you've both changed and are in bed she asks, "Will you go on a date with me? After my family leaves?"

"No," you answer into the dark and snuggle into the pillow.

"You're going to say yes," she says and you can feel her smile radiating around the room.

You can't help, but smile, "Nope."

"Ye-es," she sings and moves around on the bed.

You can't argue with her because at some point you always lose, even if you're right so the only way to win this one is to quit.

"Are you going to drop me off at the courthouse tomorrow?"

"Of course," you answer immediately.

"Thanks San."

"No problem."

"You'll go on a date with me," she says playfully, "You know you can't resist."

You giggle at her comment and reply with, "Go to sleep Britt."

"Okay, Goodnight Santana."

"Goodnight Brittany."


	15. Chapter 15

There's a knock on the door while you're still sleeping. You had a late shift last night and got home a few hours ago. Brittany's still sleeping so you get up and check the peephole.

You sigh and unlock the door, leaning on the frame, "What do you want?"

"I was promised breakfast," Quinn grins and lets herself in, "Then a trip to the aquarium."

You totally forgot that you made plans with Quinn. You rub your forehead, "Yeah um, I have to take Brittany to the courthouse in like an hour, you can hang out here while I do it and then I'll come pick up you and Em?" You really don't want to have to take Emily with you.

She nods, "Of course." She takes a few more steps into the apartment and looks around, "Oh god, you don't have a TV."

You're too tired to roll your eyes so you just point to the laptop that's sitting on the kitchen table. "There are movies and stuff on there."

After Quinn starts walking toward the table, you walk into the bedroom, check the clock and kneel down next to a sleeping Brittany. "It's time to wake up," you tenderly brush the hair out of her face. You couldn't stop yourself. She's just so beautiful, especially in sleep when she's not worrying about money or Richie or paying for Emily's school. Her lips are slightly pouted and her hair has started to fall from her ponytail.

When she doesn't stir, you run your fingers through her hair and try again. This time her eyes immediately open and she gasps. There's a look of panic in her eyes.

After the initial shock and your little bout with a short burst of surprise you start moving. "Hey," you move to sit on the bed, one leg tucked under you, "What's wrong?"

She sits up immediately. Her arms find their way around your shoulders and she holds onto you burying her face into your neck. You can hear a soft sniffle coming from her and that plummets you into worrying. "Britt what's wrong?" You flatten your hands across her back and try to absorb as much of whatever negative emotion is running through her. You don't ever want her to feel like this.

"I…" she pulls away, her hands running down your arms until they drop into her lap. "It was just a dream." She moves her hand up to her face to wipe away a stray tear. She starts to stand up, "I'm going to go see Emily."

"She's still asleep," you tell her and take her hand, stopping her from getting far from the bed. It's not a good idea for her to see Emily when she's upset like that. It's just upset Emily and then Brittany will get more upset for upsetting Emily. "Britt, what's going on?"

"I just had a dream that Richie took her away," she falls back down on the bed and shakes her head. "It's stupid."

You reach forward and cup her cheek, gently lifting her chin so that she looks at you, "It's not stupid. It's every good parents' nightmare." When her eyes still linger downward, you dip your head to catch her eyes. Once you have a sufficient hold on her eyes, you add, "I promise that I will never, ever let anyone take Emily away from you…from us. I promise."

She leans forward and her eyes flutter closed. Your foreheads softly rest together and your heart takes off on its emotional drag race. She takes a few shallow, shaky breaths before her hand comes up to rest on the back of your neck under your hair. Her fingers gently massage the skin just below your hairline before she adds, "Thank you Santana."

"No problem," you tell her. You feel like Brittany needs you to open up and let out some of what you've been holding back out. You'll do it for her because she needs it, "No matter what Brittany. I'll always be here for you and Emily."

"We're a family?" Brittany's asks, her eyes opening and locking onto yours. There's so much vulnerability in them that you just want to wrap yourself around her and protect her from everything.

You smile at her and nod, "We are. You, me and Emily." Her eyes light up and you're so happy that you did that. For a few seconds you know that you're meant to be with her. That you're meant to love her and protect her and be a family with her and Emily. Then you come crashing down to reality. You figure that that's enough sharing for a while. Especially before you do something stupid, like ask her out or worse…kiss her. You pull back and drop your hands into your lap, "C'mon we gotta go."

She nods and gives you a smile that makes your heart speed up. Then it turns into a playful and coy smile. She bites her lip for a moment before tackling you back onto the back in a hug. You can't help, but laugh. You fear that she'll start tickling you before she leans in and steals a kiss. It was like a flash in time when it happened and before you can even react she's off of the bed and sauntering to the bathroom, singing to herself.

You watch her disappear into the bathroom where she oh so teasingly leaves the door open. When the water in the shower comes on, you finally get yourself moving. You throw on some jeans and a zip up hoodie before walking back into the living room trying to compose yourself.

"So when does Emily get to come spend the night so you two can have a date?" Quinn looks up at you from her seat on the table behind the laptop the second you're in her line of vision. She tries to hide a smile behind a sip from a coffee cup.

You just roll your eyes but are completely thankful that Quinn made coffee, "When I get a real job and stop being a fuck-up."

"What kind of job are we talking here?" Quinn asks leaning back in the chair. She crosses her arms and tilts her head.

You shrug, "I don't know." You fix up your coffee how you like it and turn around to look at her, "It's not going to happen. Who is going to hire a stripper?"

"Who is going to hire a thirty year old stripper?" Quinn counters. It's not as cold as it could be, but it's not as understanding as you'd like, "You can't do it forever."

You tilt your head back and sigh to the ceiling, "Can we please talk about this later?" You don't want to have this conversation right now. Especially right before taking Brittany to court.

She taps her fingers on the table, "It's almost like you don't want to be with her."

"You know it's not that," you look down at her. You hate that she knows you so well even after years of separation.

"So you don't want her to be happy?" the tucks some long blonde hair behind her ear. She's baiting you. You can see it in her eyes.

You know what she's doing and you tell her that. "Someone else came make her happier."

"Chicken," Quinn turns back to the laptop screen. As you turn around to grab a granola bar she makes a few 'bawks' for good measure.

"Can it Fabray," you throw over your shoulder as you make Brittany a travel mug of coffee.

Brittany walks in a few minutes later, looking professional and ready for court. You hand her the coffee you made her and the granola bar. She gives you a grateful smile and kiss on the cheek. Then she hugs Quinn before walking out the door. She's so distracted by the trial that she forgot her purse so you grab it and follow her out.

On the way to the courthouse, she's quiet again, hanging onto your hand like it's a lifeline. "It should be over today and this will all be done with." You assure her, hoping that you're tone is confident while in your mind you're trying to figure out how many hours you'll have to put in at the club if she loses.

"What happens if we lose?" Brittany asks, her eyes glued to the nearing courthouse. It's like she read your mind.

You shake your head at her, "Then we'll handle it." You don't speak again until you pull to the stop across the street from the courthouse. You're trying to gather the words to put her at ease. You think you find them when you put the car in park and turn to her. "No matter what happens we'll be okay. I swear. I will take care of you and Emily." That's a promise. No matter what happens, no matter what you have to do, they will both be taken care of for as long as you're alive.

Her shoulders lose a little tension. She blows out a stream of air and eyes the building. Suddenly she's a ball of tense nerves again, "Shit."

"What?" you ask, looking past her to see the courthouse. It takes you a minute, but you see Richie standing outside the courthouse with a suit on. He's smoking a cigarette with sunglasses on like he's some kind of bad boy from a 80s era romance film. You'd really like to show him what badass _really_ is.

Then your feel the incredible tremble of Brittany's hand in your own. You look at her face as her eyes narrow on Richie. She's not scared anymore. You've only seen this look on Brittany's face a handful of times, but it's unmistakable. She's pissed as hell. Like seeing red angry and she's ready to take Richie's head off.

You'd be ridiculously proud if it didn't actually make you a little nervous. So with a quick glance to the clock you divert her attention to yourself, "B, you have to go in."

She rips her eyes off of him and looks over at you. She still looks angry and her cheeks are turning rosy from the surge of adrenaline. You search her face and try to decide what to do. The uneasy feeling in your stomach is growing because of the fire in her eyes. You finally reach for the handle of your door and open it, cutting the car off.

"What are you doing?" she asks, getting out on her side.

You grab her purse out of the back and walk around the car to hand it to her, "I'm walking you inside."

"Really?" she asks then glances up at Richie who hasn't seen you yet.

You nod, "I just don't want you to kill him before you get inside." You give her a small smile, which she returns. That distinguishes a little of the fire. She offers her pinkie to you and you hook yours around hers automatically.

She looks both ways for cars and finally someone stops so that you can cross. You both hurry across the step up onto the sidewalk. As you near the steps up to the courthouse, you can practically feel that Richie sees you. When you look up, you catch his eyes and send him a glare that forces him to look away. You suppress a triumphant smirk. You've asserted your dominance. You have Brittany and you have Emily and you're not scared of him.

Just as you think you're in the clear, he tosses his cigarette down and trots over to you, "Brittany. Can we talk?"

"No," she states, and continues walking, pulling you along with her. But Richie trots ahead of you and cuts off her path. And that is when you get mad.

"Back off," you state, taking a step between him and Brittany. Brittany tries to pull you back, but you stand firm between them almost daring Richie to do something. Okay well you really want him to do something because if he does, you can finally beat him to a pulp.

Of course Brittany tries to pull you back again and this time you let her because her voice is firm and commanding when she says, "C'mon Santana."

You both start to walk around him again. "Brittany," he grabs her arm and forces her to turn around.

You bound between them, this time shoving Richie away from her. "I said back the fuck off." You've lost control of yourself and you're ready for it to come to blows.

"I wasn't talking to you," he pushes you back, his hand making contact with your upper right arm.

That is the last straw. Just as you're about to pounce, there's an arm around your waist stopping your forward progress. You know that it's Brittany so you don't fight it. You let her pull you back although you have been waiting to beat the shit out of him for months. It doesn't stop you from muttering a few choice names in Spanish and trying to stop his heart by glaring.

Richie starts to come at you again, but a man in a suit jumps in. "Richie, Richie come on." He lowers his voice, "The judge's office is right there." He points to a window facing the street. That must be his attorney.

"Santana," Brittany rests her head against yours, "It's okay." Because you were trying to get at Richie, you turned in her arms and she's holding you with both arms around your waist from your left side. You know she knows you enough to block your left arm and are soothed by her voice in your ear telling you that it's okay.

You shake it off and link your pinkie with hers again. You finish escorting her inside and let her lead you to the correct courtroom. The whole way you try to keep your anger down. You don't want to jeopardize Brittany or Emily because of your temper. When you get to the courtroom, you think you've let go of it and regret having reacted like you did.

Brittany's attorney is sitting on a bench outside of the room and stands when he sees you. He walks up and nods to you. "Good morning ladies."

"Good morning," Brittany gives him a smile and turns to you. The attorney takes this as an invitation to go inside of the courtroom without her.

"You okay?" you ask, feeling kind of like an ass for getting angry and actually almost trying to hit Richie.

She nods with a soft smile. She straightens out some of your hair and asks, "Are you okay?"

Your eyes drop to the ground and you nod. "I'm fine. I'm sorry that I flipped out."

"If you didn't I would have," she takes you hand and laces your fingers together, "And I think that would have been worse."

You hear a disgustingly familiar voice and look around. Richie and his attorney are walking down the long hallway toward you so you pull her to the side away from their path. They don't say anything as they enter the courtroom, which is a very good thing for Richie's face and your criminal record.

"We'll be fine no matter what," you remind her one last time before you give her a hug.

She nods with a knowing smile, "I know that now. Thank you."

You feel antsy on the drive back to your apartment. So you take a second in the car on your street to completely compose yourself before going into your apartment.

The second you walk into the apartment you're assailed by the tiny little blonde. She's bouncing and happy and most thankfully dressed so you can get going quickly. She's looking up at you with her big blue eyes and smiles, "We're going to breakfast with Quinn!"

You smile down at her and pick her up to get a better hug. When her arms wrap around your neck you feel infinitely better. Every time she hugs you like this, you know you were put on this earth to protect her and to protect Brittany. It's your purpose.

When you let Emily down, sliding to her feet Quinn picks up her purse and asks with a sweet smile, "Ready?"

Once you're at the restaurant and Emily gets her pancakes, you look over at Quinn who is tapping away on her phone. When she looks up, she smiles, "How are your crepes?"

"They're good," you nod, looking down at the half eaten things on your plate. Quinn ordered for you when all you really wanted was coffee. You felt sort of like you were in high school again with her being in charge and you being the second in command, but she was right about you liking the crepes.

"Are you excited about the aquarium?" Quinn asks Emily.

The little blonde smiles, "Yeah. I'm going to show you the penguins and the sharks and the eels- they're really scary looking, but 'Tana will protect us."

Quinn shoots you a smile and continues to listen to Emily name everything that she can remember from the last time you took her to the aquarium. You just nod at your plate. You're going to protect her. No matter what you have to do.

At the aquarium, you and Quinn follow Emily's lead. When she stops at the penguin habitat, you and Quinn have a chance to sit down.

"I think you should take Brittany out tonight," Quinn offers in the dark of the observation room.

You keep you eyes on Emily when you cock an eyebrow, "Oh yeah?"

"This lawsuit has got to be stressful on her," Quinn leans toward you, "She could probably use a night out…or a night in."

"Why is the whole world a conspiracy to get us together?" you ask.

"Because you and Brittany belong together," Quinn states with a finality that only comes with the authoritativeness she is used to having. "Think about it. If the whole world is trying to get you together and you're the only one keeping you apart…you're probably in the wrong here."

You kick the back of your left shoe with the toe of your right one. Maybe she has a point. Brittany has told you multiple times that she wants to have a deeper relationship with you. And god you want it so bad.

Finally you sigh deeply, "I can't. Not right now."

"Soon?" Quinn asks, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

It takes you a minute, but you nod, "Yeah. Soon." You just have to figure out how soon, soon really is.

After you leave the aquarium, you all head back to the apartment. Quinn has to leave to go do something so she says goodbye to you and Emily in front of your apartment building. She promises Emily that the next time her nieces come over that she'll give you a call.

"Soon," Quinn smiles as she hugs you. Then she just smiles at you before she hails a cab and rides off.

You're making the bed while Emily colors a few minutes later. You're wondering what possessed you to tell Quinn that you'd date Brittany soon because the second she can tell her, Quinn will call Brittany and spill.

You have a lot of things to do before you will even consider dating Brittany. You have to get a better job, that's for sure. You have to give up smoking. You're down to a pack every other day, but you have to quit all together. You have to…well the new job thing and the quitting smoking things were pretty much it, but they're both hard to do anyway. You know you can quit smoking, but getting a job that pays just as well as stripping with only a high school diploma? And you need the money. Especially if things aren't going well for Brittany right now.

After a lunch of sandwiches with Emily, you keep staring at your phone waiting for Brittany to call you as you fold the laundry you and Emily just brought up from the laundry room downstairs. You're getting worried because the afternoon is creeping by and you haven't heard anything from her.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear the front door open. You dart out of the bedroom to make sure that Emily isn't trying to make a break for it. However you find Brittany standing in the doorway a huge smile on her face as she hugs Emily. Emily runs back to the table as soon as her feet touch the ground to finish her picture on the floor by her room.

When Brittany sees you, she closes the door behind her and walks over to you, sweeping you into her arms, "We won."

You both let out a collective sigh of relief. You feel like so much weight is off of your shoulders. Even though if she lost, Brittany would be liable, you wouldn't have let her shoulder the burden alone. In fact you would have taken it all on yourself. Now you have a chance to focus on other things.

"Oh god," Brittany pulls away and starts unbuttoning her blouse, "I have got to get out of these clothes."

You follow her into the bedroom with every intention of getting her something to wear from what you just extracted from the dryer, but you find yourself in a near catatonic state when she steps out of her pants and sheds her shirt. She surveys the clothes with her hand on her lace panty covered hips. She's not actually wearing a bra.

After a few (gloriously) agonizing minutes, she pulls on a t-shirt, some running shorts and puts her hair up, looking just as beautiful as she did all dressed up.

"I'm starving too," she adds, walking past you with a kiss on the cheek, assumedly going to get something to eat in the direction of the kitchen.

After closing your eyes to let yourself catch up to your libido, you stride over to the bed and pick up your purse. When your hand plunges into it, it immediately grabs onto what you're looking for. The pack of cigarettes feels heavy in your hand as you examine it, turning it over in your hand.

Finally you toss the whole thing into the trashcan in the bathroom before going to the kitchen to make Brittany something to eat.


	16. Chapter 16

There's a pounding in your head unlike any other. It takes a few seconds for you to blink your eyes open and when you focus enough, you find yourself staring at white expanse blanketing your vision. Some kind of a wall. Your face is on a hard flat surface. It's cold and smells terrible. You vaguely register some kind of warm liquid dripping down the back of your neck.

You put your hand on the ground and start to push up. Your head is throbbing, but you have to find out where you are. One glance down the hallway, you see that you're on the first floor of your apartment building.

You shake your head and rub your eyes. You can't remember what happened or why you were on the floor. You push your hair out of your face and feel something wet and sticky as your head travels over the crown of your head. Your stomach lurches with the realization of what it is even before you look at the red on your hand.

Once you're on your feet and take in more around you, you notice that your purse is on the ground, contents scattered across the floor, in a shotgun blast of cosmetics and personal items. As you bend down to pick it up, your eyes flash to the front door of the building. The security door is broken, the glass cracked. It looks like someone kicked it in…

Then you take off running for the stairs. He's here. He kicked in the door and shoved you so hard you fell and hit your head. And he's on his was up to your apartment.

It feels like you run up a million stairs before you step off on your floor. The second you burst through the door, you want to start yelling but bite your tongue. If he's not in yet, you calling her could cause her to open the door and then he'd be inside. With Brittany and Emily.

You run so hard your legs burn, but you won't stop because the closer you get, the louder the bangs get. You can hear him yelling, "Brittany let me it!"

He doesn't hear you coming, but you throw your body weight at him and knock him away from the door. "Call the cops!" you yell, trying to get up and away from him before he can stand.

Richie looks like he hasn't changed out of his courtroom suit since the case was closed yesterday. He also looks drunk and enraged.

"Santana!" Brittany gasps.

You look behind you and see her standing with the door open behind her. You can't see Emily, but you know she's in there. "Close the door!" you yell and when she doesn't do it immediately you yell louder, "Close the fucking door!"

When you look back at Richie, he's rushing you. You feel the force of his body crushing yours against the wall. You can smell the alcohol seeping through his pores and all over his breath as he pants from the exertion. "You crazy fucking bitch," he spits at you.

You glance at the door of the apartment and find that it is in fact closed now. You shove him away from you and manage to hook your foot around one of his ankles so that he falls on his ass. You'd laugh if you didn't feel so dizzy. You shake your head to try to get it clear, but you don't do it in time because as you're bending over to keep yourself from falling, he grabs your hair and yanks you to the ground.

You fall with a heavy thud. Or maybe that was his fist connecting with your stomach. You can't tell because it hurts everywhere. You lay on the ground and roll onto your back, the cracked ceiling coming into a hazy view.

You want to lay there and wait for someone to find you. You don't think you can move. You don't think you want to. Then you remember why you're fighting in the first place. Brittany and Emily are inside and you're going to protect them. At any cost.

It takes a Herculean effort on your part to even stand, but when you see Richie's staggering trying to break the door down with his shoulder. You quickly walk over to him and grab his tie, yanking him away from the door and into your fist. He falls backwards into a crumpled heap on the floor.

He doesn't look like he's getting up anytime soon and you're so thankful for that last bout of strength. You bend over with your hands on your knees. Breaths seem to come way harder than it usual and you have to force each and every one of them. You fall back against the wall and lean on it.

Then he starts to get up again. You just push him on the shoulders and he goes tumbling down again. "Fuck," you huff and roll your neck. You haven't had time to assess the damage done to you before the police come running up the stairs.

The questions come immediately and you resist getting Brittany to open the door because you're sure you look like hell and you don't want Brittany or Emily seeing you like this. But eventually you have to. They're not just going to take your word for it that he was going after the woman in the apartment without her coming out and confirming that. You lightly tap on the door and tell Brittany through the door it's okay to open up. Then you take a few steps away from the door so she sees the police first and not you.

You sit down against the wall and pull your knees to your chest which turns out to be a bad idea. It feels like doing that crushed all of your ribs together. So you settle for just not looking in Brittany's direction when she comes out of the apartment.

A female officer steps with Brittany into the apartment. Probably so Emily won't see any of the massacre that just occurred in the hallway. There's blood smeared on the wall. You reach up to your head and feel more blood than was there before.

Your eyelids get heavy as you wait. You don't even remember what you're waiting for. Finally someone in a blue shirt kneels next to you. "Ma'am?"

You look up at him and try to get a reading on him. His shirt says EMS so you must be in worse shape than you thought. You stand when he asks you to and follow the instructions of the examination. When he says that you don't have a concussion you shrug him off and turn to where the cops are reading Richie his rights.

You look around on the floor for anything you may have dropped when you hear an audible gasp. At the opposite end of the hallway, Quinn is walking toward you, your purse slung over your shoulder. She looks so damn perfect in her floral print dress and ballet flats that you want to make a comment on it, but you can't. You're too tired.

"Santana, why aren't you going to the hospital?" Quinn asks, walking up to you and placing a hand on your back.

You shake your head, "I'm fine. I just need…a shower or something."

"You need a doctor," Quinn says.

"What are you even doing here?" you ask, standing up straight. Or as straight as you can.

Quinn glances at the door behind you, "Brittany called me, panicking. I'm about to pick up my nieces. So I'm going to take Emily for a little while so you and Brittany can sort this out."

You nod. It's probably for the best. You at least don't want her to see the blood coming from wherever it's coming from on your head.

The officer walks out of the apartment with a smile and a wave. Brittany nods to her as she steps into the doorway of the apartment. You walk into the apartment, past her without a word trying to keep your head down so she can't see any damage done before you do. You walk straight into the bathroom and halfheartedly push the door closed. It doesn't click but you don't care. You just don't want Emily to see you.

When you see yourself though, you're surprised. The blood isn't come from the back of your head. At least not that you can tell. There's a cut on your forehead that looks like you've been wiping it up toward you hair without knowing it. When you look at your left hand, your palm is almost covered in blood. You don't even remember touching your face.

You shrug off your jacket and let it fall to the ground. Then you turn on the cold water and splash your face a few times. The diluted blood streams down your right cheek and onto the white tiles of the floor, streaking them in pink. You grab an old towel out of the cabinet and toss it into the ground under you then grab a washcloth to clean off your face.

You're getting too old for this. No too old for protecting your girls, but too old to fight like that. You were running on pure adrenaline and had Richie not been drunk you fear you would be in a lot worse shape.

You hear the front door close and lock with the multiple locks. Barefooted steps walk toward you and the door slowly opens with Brittany peeking in. She steps all the way in and starts the shower. You're trying to cover up your cut with the washcloth, but after the shower is on, she reaches up and takes the cloth from you.

She gently pulls your shirt over your head and bites her lip with she sees new bruises forming across your torso. Then she unbuttons and unzips your skinny jeans, pushing them down your legs. Your bra and panties are next. Then before you have a chance to feel completely vulnerable, she takes your hand and helps you into the shower.

When the water hits your skin you close your eyes and tilt your head up into the spray. You didn't remember some of the hits you took until the water ran over them. You wince a bit, but when you feel a soft cloth on your back you nearly jump out of your skin.

You turn around and see Brittany standing behind you. Her hair is up and she's naked. You grab her wrist to top the cloth from moving over your shoulder. "What are you doing Britt?"

Her eyes are pink around the edges, which means she's close to crying. She just shakes her head and turns you back around, resuming her tender cleaning of your back.

She dips her head down and kisses your shoulder as the cloth slowly moves up your right side. You clench you jaw when she hits a tender place on your ribs. She carefully steps around you in the small shower and looks down at the long bruise that's taking shape.

You don't feel exposed like you should. You feel everything but. You feel safe and guarded and you're not that one that's doing the guarding. When she bends over the kiss the bruise a soft smile crosses your lips. But when she stands up again, the silent tears drifting down your face cause your smile to disappear.

"It's okay," you tell her. Your voice comes out quiet and almost a whisper barely making it above the sound of the water on the tiles. "I'm okay."

She just closes her eyes for a moment, the tears sliding down her long eyelashes. When she opens her eyes she holds yours. The tears accumulate at the bottom of her eyes and you can see that she's doing her best to keep them back.

Your heart feels crushed at the look of the sad heavy tears in her eyes. You don't ever want to her feel like that. Before you can even register that you're moving, your lips crash together. It hurts your stomach and your ribs and your head, but you don't stop. She needs this and you'll admit that you do to.

Her hands hesitate in mid-air but find a small, uninjured place on your face to rest. She moves into the kiss, probing deeper. She pulls away first and resumes tenderly washing your injuries.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" she asks, looking at the cut on your face.

"I'm fine," you say, "We have a first aid kit in the kitchen. I'll put a band aid on it or something." She bites her lip under worried eyes. You add, "The paramedic said I don't have a concussion. It's just a cut. I just hit my head a little."

She wraps her arms around you and holds you against her, the water hitting both of you. "I love you Santana."

Your fingers splay across her back, trying to touch every inch of her back possible, "I love you too."

After she washes your hair, you both get out of the shower and lay on the bed together.

"I got so scared," she confesses, "You were bleeding and there was banging outside. And…when you told me to lock the door…I felt so bad for leaving you out there."

"You had to protect Emily," you tell her, not wanting her in any way to feel guilty for anything that just happened.

"I know," she says quietly, "But I wanted to protect you too." After a pause she turns her eyes up to the ceiling, "I just feel like this is my fault. If I hadn't…I don't know. I feel like I brought him here so he could do that to you."

"You didn't bring him here," you shake your head and pull her into your arms, "You didn't make him do anything." You kiss her hair and look out the bedroom door. Checking for something. You don't know what. Richie maybe. "How did Emily handle the whole thing?"

"She was in her room watching a movie on your computer. She was using the headphones so I don't think she knows what was going on," Brittany breathes out, "I hope not anyway. I was on the phone with the police from the time you told me to close the door until they got here."

"Do you want to go stay somewhere else tonight?" you ask her. You sort of feel like leaving the apartment for a little while. At least at night. Tonight especially.

She studies your face for a moment, thinking it over, maybe even trying to decide what you want to do. Finally she nods, "Yeah. Where do you want to go?"

"We could go to a hotel," you shrug, "For tonight. Emily might like it. We could go to the pool and order room service." Brittany still looks skeptical so you try to persuade her, "We kinda have to go. I didn't actually get to get the toilet paper I went out to get."

She smiles and kisses you. It feels weird to just let her. You start to flinch every time she moves toward you, but you hold yourself back. If only for today. Because today you need to touch her as much as she wants to touch you. You need to hold her and know that she's okay. When Emily comes back you'll probably hug her more and hold her hand when you're going somewhere. You need to know that they're both okay.

You've never felt terror like you did when you realize that Richie was on his way up to your apartment. The sheer fear that ran through you was overpowering. Because they're it. Brittany and Emily are what you live for. They give your life purpose. You would have rather died in the hallway than let something happen to either one of them.

Brittany sitting up on the bed pulls you from your thoughts. She slides onto the floor and before you can stop yourself you reach over and grab her shoulder, stopping her, "Where are you going?"

"To get the first aid kit," she smiles softly, resting her hand on top of yours. She moves her hand and kisses your fingers that still grip her shoulder before standing, your hand slipping from its perch and landing on the bed.

When she returns she sits at the head of the bed, her back against the wall. She pats her lap and you rest your head on her legs. After Brittany basically uses two very small pieces of tape to close up the cut on your head she kisses it. You don't make a move to move your head. It's just so comfortable. Her fingers easily glide through your hair and you feel an exhaustion sneak up on your body.

"We should call the hotel," you say as your eyes slide closed.

She reaches to her nightstand without moving you too much and picks up her phone. You hear the click of it unlocking and a soft sigh escape from Brittany. You look up at her face and she's biting her lip.

"What's wrong?" you ask.

Her eyes flicker down to you, "I forgot about tomorrow."

"What happens-" you trail off though because it hits you. You drape your arm over your eyes, "Son of a bitch."

"They promised that they'll be nice," Brittany smoothes out your hair.

"I look like Rocky," you tell her, "There's no way your mother is seeing me like this."

When a heartbreaking sigh leaves Brittany's mouth, you know that you're going with her to meet her parents and sister for dinner tomorrow night. You don't even have to look at her to know that her pout is already firm on her face. "Whatever," you huff, "But I reserve the right to leave at any time."

"Awesome," Brittany says and by the tone of her voice you know the words came from a smile.

You move your arm so that you can look at her and she surprises you with a kiss.

After you call the hotel that's not really all that far from you apartment, you start packing your things. Brittany goes into the bathroom to grab some things and you go into Emily's room to get some clothes for her. You dig for a while and find her swimsuit.

When you're both ready to go, Brittany calls Quinn and you meet her in the lobby. Emily seems beside herself at the idea of staying in the hotel room.

"Are you guys going to be okay?" Quinn asks.

Brittany nods and gives her a hug, "We just need a night away."

"Well if you want to have a few more nights away, I have two guest rooms that you can have," she says and hugs you.

You nod in a thank you and sincerely hope it won't be necessary.

Once you settled into your room, the first thing Brittany and Emily want to do is hit the indoor pool. It's too chilly outside for the outdoor pool, but a heated pool sounds heavenly to your aching body.

You forgot how mouthwatering Brittany was in a bikini. No, you didn't forget. It's just that not seeing her in the scant material for years has made you truly appreciate it now.

Some guys at the side of the pool stare and you feel the overwhelming need to stake your claim. Not that Brittany is yours. It's just that…you're running out of ways to talk yourself out of calling her yours.

You make sure Emily is securely on your back, her legs squeezing at your sides at a highly uncomfortable pressure. Then you make you way back over to Brittany. She smiles as you both near and helps Emily off of your back and onto the steps that she's sitting on.

A hand under the water grazes your side lightly. Brittany looks concerned. She must have seen the pain in your face when Emily was squeezing. You just give her a small smile and turn to the little girl.

Emily on the current stair is up to her waist in water. She splashes you and you pretend to try to splash her back, but instead you aim for Brittany. You smile after the wave of water hits her and she looks at you with a shocked expression, "Whoops."

She splashes back and Emily splashes both of you. It turns into an all out water fight. Finally you back off and they both stop. "We won," Brittany high fives Emily.

"Enjoy it while you can," you smirk and float in place for a moment before going under water and tickling Emily's feet.

Her feet dance around trying to get away from your fingers. While you're under, you can't help, but notice Brittany's long lean legs. They're just calling out to you and you can't help it when you grab onto a ticklish part of her knee. Her whole body starts shaking, desperately trying to get away from your fingers.

When you let go and surface, you're met with a face full of water. You shrug and wipe at your eyes, "I guess I deserved that."

After another hour of playing in the pool, you all go back up to the room. Brittany and Emily lay back on the bed and look through the room service menu while you rinse your hair and brush it out.

When you step out of the bathroom you ask, "What's for dinner?"

"Macaroni and cheese," Emily grins, "And chocolate cake."

"What about for the grown ups?" you look to Brittany.

She lets out a playful grin, "What grown ups?"

You order everyone's food over the phone and splurge on expensive entrees, wine and dessert for you and Brittany. After the day you had today, you both deserve it.

Emily sits at the foot of the bed watching cartoons and chowing down on her macaroni. You and Brittany are at the small table in the room, eating quietly and sipping your wine.

"How are your ribs?" Brittany asks between bites.

At first you think that she's talking about your food, but you're eating pasta. Then you get it, "Oh they're fine."

"Are you sure?" she asks, a worried look in her eyes, "It looked like you were hurting in a pool."

"Just a little," you shrug, "I'm really fine." That was a big fat lie. You were in excruciating pain when Emily jumped on you from the step, but you tried not to show it. Plus you felt like everyone was looking at your cuts and bruises and you didn't want to make a big deal of it.

"If it still hurts after tomorrow will you go see a doctor?"

You nod if only to appease her.

She seems to know it, but doesn't say anything else. After a sip of her wine she smiles, "So can I count this as a date?"

You quirk an eyebrow and by it she knows your answer. Of course she still doesn't look deterred. "Someday Santana Lopez," she picks up the last breadstick just as you're reaching for it, "You will go on a date with me." She hangs the breadstick in the air almost like bait before she bites off the end, handing you the rest. You roll your eyes and take the breadstick from her because really when have been able to resist a good breadstick….or Brittany for that matter.

After half of a bottle of wine, your dinner and dessert you lay on the bed with your face in a pillow. "I'm so full," you groan.

"Me too," Brittany groans into the pillow.

Not to be outdone, Emily falls between you and buries her face in your pillow, "I ate too much cake."

"I guess that means I get the rest of it," Brittany says and that gets Emily off of the bed and back at the table where she takes another bite of the cake.

She walks over to the bed and ducks her head down to look at Brittany's face, "Do you want a bite Mommy?"

You can't see Brittany's face but you know her smile. She's smiling at Emily and kisses her forehead, "No thank you baby."

Emily jumps onto the bed and crawls over Brittany to lay down by you, "'Tana do you want some of my cake?"

"No thanks," you grin at her. You tickle her tummy until she hops off of the bed and goes back to the table.

After all the food is done and the dirty dishes are out in the hallway, you all crawl into bed and settle in for a movie. Emily fell asleep almost immediately on the other side of Brittany from you.

When it's dark and you're sure that neither one is still awake, your eyes check every shadow in the room, trying to decide if there's a threat anywhere. You know that the door is locked and that no one, but Quinn knows where you are. It's stupid to think that he's here or that he even knows where you are. But you can't help it. You look over the bed at your girls. You don't resist claiming them this time. They're yours. Yours to protect. Yours to love.

The small portion of the bed you have to yourself is more than enough. You're just worried about Emily rolling off of the bed and hitting her head on the nightstand so you roll off of the bed and walk to her side. You place the only pillow you had to yourself between Emily and the nightstand, making sure that the corner of the piece of furniture is covered.

When you return to your part of the bed, Brittany rolls onto her back and smiles at you. "You're a good mom."

You smile back at her in the dark, "Yeah, yeah."

She moves her pillow toward you more and rests her head back on it, "We can share."

Of course when you put your head down you can smell Brittany. Not just the mixture of her shampoo from her post pool shower or the light perfume that's still on her clothes. You can smell her skin. The smell that always was and always will be just Brittany.

You manage to keep to yourself and almost get to sleep until you hear a soft thud. Your arm is immediately around Brittany's waist with your hand touching Emily's back.

Brittany runs her fingers up and down your arm, "It's okay. I just kicked Emily's shoe off of the bed. I'm sorry." Her soothing whispers do little to calm your facing heart.

You leave your arm where it is, draped over Brittany with your hand touching Emily. You need to know they're both there and that they're both safe. Brittany rolls onto her back and turns her head toward you. Her lips brush against yours in a sweet, reassuring kiss. "We're okay now. Thanks to you. Try to get some sleep."

You nod with her forehead against hers. "I'll try."

She gives you one last peck on the lips, "I love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you slip your free arm under her head and she settles in on it comfortably. This feels so natural holding her body against yours, her ribcage expanding and contracting under your arm.

You finally decide that it's now or never. You kiss her softly on the back of her neck and close your eyes as you finally ask, "Britt?"

"Hmm?" she asks, sleepily.

"I want to date you. I do," you breathe out, "But I want to be someone that deserves to date you. So, I quit smoking and as soon as I find a new job, a better job…one that's more respectable. You know, one that I can tell our parents about…I'm going to take you out okay? You just have to give me a little time."

Brittany rolls over completely in your arms and pulls your body flush against hers. Her nose grazes the underside of your jaw as she looks up toward you. "I'd wait for you forever," she murmurs and kisses you, "But I'm glad I'm not going to have to wait much longer." Finally with one last, breathtaking kiss she rolls over, her hand resting on top of your hand that's on Emily's back.


	17. Chapter 17

You feel like you're fucking six years old again trying to remember all of the etiquette rules your parents taught you. Yes ma'am, no ma'am, please, thank you, meat forks and salad knives, don't speak unless spoken to, chew with your mouth closed….All these lessons swirling around in your head as you, Emily and Brittany make your way toward the restaurant. You really need a cigarette.

"Why is your hand shaking?" Emily asks you, her hand in yours.

You look down at her and feel a little calmer seeing her blue eyes looking up at you. She's wearing a dress that your mom sent her in the mail for her birthday, which is tomorrow. It's yellow with a white ribbon around the middle, ending in a bow that Brittany tied. She looks so adorable. So much like Brittany. Your eyes dart to Brittany who is looking at you sympathetically. You look back down at Emily and tell her, "I drank too much coffee." Then you go back to completely losing it internally.

You're so in your head trying to remember what side your water glass goes on that you don't realize you've arrived until you're very enthusiastically hugged by the Mandy. Pain shoots through your entire torso and you try your best not to cringe.

"Oh my god," Mandy gasps after she pulls away and looks at you properly for the first time, "What happened to you?" You can feel her mapping your face with her eyes. You told Brittany that they could still see your cuts and bruises under the make-up, but she insisted that you looked fine.

You glance behind Mandy to see Mr. and Mrs. Pierce both staring at you as well. Your face burns with their looks. So you look to Brittany. She shoots a glance down at Emily, who is obliviously watching a fountain in the corner of the lobby. Brittany makes eye contact with her sister and quietly says, "We'll tell you later."

Mandy narrows her eyes at her sister in thought. Then her eyes get wide and she looks at you, "It was R-I-C-H-I-E wasn't it?" Her eyes peer down to see if Emily caught her spelling her sperm donor's name. Emily's walking over her to grandpa and giving him a hug so she's not even paying attention.

Brittany nods and presses her finger to her lips. "I'll explain everything later." Her eyes sweep her family making sure that they're all going to let it go for now. Her parents look alarmed and Mandy just stares at you. You have no idea what she's thinking and you're not sure that you want to.

Mr. Pierce clears his throat, "Shall we?"

Somehow, you end up at the same end of the table as Brittany's mother. You're convinced that the universe hates you. It has to. Luckily, Emily is seated between you and Brittany so you have someone to talk to next to you. You and Emily color in the coloring book that Brittany brought for her while you actively avoid direct eye contact with Mrs. Pierce.

The dinner is filled mostly with Mandy talking about her competition. It'll take place tomorrow in the late morning. Then she's free to roam until the award ceremony the next day. Something must have happened to loosen Coach Sylvester's iron grip on the team because she never let you have a whole afternoon off.

You're having a hard time focusing on the conversations at hand. Every time Emily leans over on you, pain shoot through your abdomen. Plus, you're still on edge, your eyes sweeping the restaurant every few minutes. Especially with all the Pierces in one place. Not that R-I-C-H-I-E has any reason to know where you are or that they're here.

"So," Brittany's mom looks at you and you clench your fists under the table. She's trying to have a conversation with you and you panic and pray that she doesn't ask you about your job. You pray really hard. "I saw your mother the other day at the mall."

"Oh yeah?" She is not doing very well in starting a conversation. How do you respond to that?

Mrs. Pierce nods, "Yeah." Then she looks from you, to her food then back at the other end of the table.

Well, that's that. It actually went better than you expected.

Of course when the meal is over, you don't get lucky enough to get to go home. Mr. Pierce invites you all up to the hotel room. You have to go because Emily has a firm grip on both yours and Mandy's hands, bouncing up and down at the prospect.

The room is a suite with a sitting area right when you open the door. Past that is a short hallway with a door to the bathroom and in the back is the bedroom. Emily immediately asks to watch TV in the bedroom and you know she's tired because she doesn't want to stay and play with her Aunt. Mr. Pierce starts to walk with her to the back. She hasn't let go of your hand and you're hoping that you can lay down with her and maybe she'll fall asleep on your arm or something so you can just lay with her until Brittany's ready to leave.

That doesn't happen though. As you're walking out of the sitting room, Brittany grabs your hand from her place in the armchair. You look down at her and she's silently pleading with you not to leave. You could never resist that.

Emily stops walking when you stop. Brittany lets go of you and you kneel in front of Emily, "We're going to stay in here and talk okay?"

Emily nods and wraps her arms around your neck. You can't stop a smile when she does things like that. Then she hugs Brittany and walks back to where her grandpa has turned on the TV for her.

When Mr. Pierce comes back into the room and sits on the couch next to Mandy, you know what's coming next. You don't really need to be there for the retelling of yesterday. You were there. You lived it.

You make yourself comfortable or as comfortable as you can be sitting on the arm of the chair Brittany's in. She puts her arm around your waist and laces you're the fingers of her right hand with your left hand across the front of your body. You can see in her eyes that she needs someone to hold onto for this. And you'll do it. You'll do anything for her.

"What happened?" Mandy finally breaks the tense silence, "Was it at the courthouse?"

Brittany shakes her head, "It was at our apartment." She takes a deep breath and looks up at you, "How did he get in?"

You forgot for a moment that Brittany actually missed most of what happened. So most of the story telling is going to be on your shoulders. "He broke the front door."

"Then he… knocked you out?" she asks like it's physically painful for her to say out loud.

You slowly nod. Mandy looks like she's watching a horror movie with her hands over her mouth. Brittany's parents just look shocked beyond words.

"Then he started banging on the door," Brittany took over, giving your hand a squeeze to let you know that she's got it for a bit, "Emily was watching a movie and didn't hear it. Then I heard a bang on the wall. Santana like tackled him or something. I opened the door to look, but Santana told me to close it again. I called the police while they were fighting in the hallway. When the police got there, Santana was leaning on the wall and Richie was laying on the ground."

"Are you okay?" Brittany's dad asks you.

You nod robotically, "I'm fine." When you look down at Brittany her eyes tell you that she knows you're lying. No matter how much you say you are. She saw you wince when you put your dress on before dinner. She probably noticed the look on your face when Mandy hugged you. You saw her looking at you with worried eyes more than once when Emily would accidentally hit a sore spot at dinner.

"You're my hero," Mandy states after about a minute of a thick, unsettling silence.

You quirk your eyebrow at the youngest Pierce in the room. She gives you a hundred watt smile and somehow you believe that she meant what she said.

"Mine too," Brittany says softly. Your eyes move to her and immediately her eyes hold you hostage. She softly kisses your arm just below your shoulder and you're a complete puddle. People don't get more perfect that Brittany.

Of course Mrs. Pierce ruins your moment. She softly clears her throat before starting to speak with her eyes on her hands that are folded in her lap, "I, um…" her eyes flicker up to you, "I haven't been fair to you."

Everyone looks absolutely shocked and you're sure that you look the most shocked of all. You can't believe those words came out of her mouth.

She continues after she gulps, "I judged you too harshly, especially when you girls were in high school. I was wrong. You clearly have Brittany and Emily's best interests at heart. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself is not only moving, but shows your devotion to them both. I apologize. I truly do."

You don't know what to say. Your entire image of this woman was predicated on the fact that she hated you and told you that you weren't good enough for Brittany. Now she's taking that all back. "I um…" You stutter and look to Brittany for help. She just smiles at you.

Mrs. Pierce adds gracefully, "You don't have to say anything back. I just need to apologize."

"Are you two still living in the same apartment?" Mr. Pierce asks, "Do you think that's such a good idea since he knows where you live?"

You have to admit that you've had the exact same thought, but the apartment is cheap and the only amount of money large enough to move, that you have access to is Emily's college fund and you don't want to touch that. You start dipping into it and you keep doing it until there's nothing left. You're not going to do that.

You start doing the math in your head wondering how many nights you'd have to work in a row to pay to break the lease, hire movers, and sign a new lease. Through your thoughts you hear Brittany explain that you just can't afford to move right then.

Mr. Pierce frowns, "We'll pay for it." Brittany opens her mouth. You know it's to argue and he cuts her off, "It's for your safety. Yours and Emily's and Santana's."

Brittany closes her mouth and looks up at you. You've never been comfortable accepting money from people, but because it is a safety issue and if you don't Richie could come back while you're gone and the girls are home, you're going to have to do it this once. You give a miniscule nod that only Brittany can decipher.

She relays the acceptance to her parents who also insist that you stay somewhere else for the night. You're surprised when Brittany tells them that you stayed at a hotel last night and you're staying there again tonight. She must have booked the room.

"What's the plan tomorrow for Emily's birthday?" Mandy asks. She looks almost as excited as Emily does.

Brittany smiles, "We're going to breakfast at her favorite place and then we'll go watch your competition. Then we're going to the aquarium with two of her best friends before we're going to have her birthday dinner."

"Where's her dinner going to be?" you ask. Brittany did do all of the planning. You just took the weekend off to spend it with them.

"Quinn's house," Brittany turns to her family, "You can ride with us if you want. It's kinda far to take a cab."

You try to keep down a laugh, picturing all six of you crammed into Brittany's car. Yeah, that would be fun. Not.

"Are we invited to this breakfast thing?" Mandy asks, starting to remove her heels, "Because I could totally use some Emily time before our competition."

Brittany smiles, "Of course."

Mrs. Pierce gets up and peeks into the bedroom, "She's passed out."

You stand from your place on the arm of Brittany's chair and see for yourself. When you see that she's curled up on the bed, you smile. You step back into the sitting room and look at Brittany, "I'm going to go ahead and take her back t the hotel. You can stay if you want."

"I'll come with you," Brittany stands up, "We have a big day tomorrow."

You end up carrying Emily all the way back to the hotel, which wouldn't have been that long of a walk except that you're wearing heels.

Once inside, you see all of your bags where they were before. The bed is made, but Brittany pulls at the blanket on top so you can lay Emily down. She's still in her dress, but you don't want to accidentally wake her up changing her.

You and Brittany change fairly quickly. You change quickly because you don't want her to see the deep bruises littering your body. She crawls into the bed behind Emily and you behind her, just like last night. Brittany reaches behind her and blindly grabs your hand, pulling it over her waist like a blanket.

You smile and settle in behind her. You're fighting off all of your walls and defenses in order to stay like that. You're been training yourself for months that this is wrong so there's a knot in your stomach when you allow yourself to do it.

"What did you get her?" Brittany asks quietly.

"I can't tell you," you smile, "But I left it at the apartment so I have to go get it tomorrow. I'll go when you guys are at the aquarium."

"When are we going to move?" Brittany sighs. She turns under your arm to face you, "I go back to work the day after tomorrow."

"How about Monday I go apartment hunting and then on your lunch break or after work we can go look at the ones I've narrowed down?"

"Won't you be tired at work?" she asks her hand resting on your hip carefully stroking the material over your skin.

You shrug, "I'm always tired at work."

She doesn't immediately reply. You can see her eyes trailing all over your face and down to the bed. When she finally does reply, she says, "You know, I don't think your job is bad or anything."

You feel her thumb dip under your shirt and swipe across the skin just under the hem of it. "I know, but…do you really want your parents to know that you're dating a stripper?"

"A stripper who was willing to sacrifice herself for me and Emily?" she asks, her eyes holding yours. If it wasn't so dark you'd swear they were shimmering with tears, "Yes I do. I wanted to tell everyone." She moves her head toward yours and tentatively touches her lips to yours. When you don't react in any way, she firmly kisses you. When she pulls back you can see her smiling, "And I want to actually, you know, date you."

You can't help, but smile at her. You want to date her too, but you have to find a different job. You tell her that and see the smile fade on her face.

"Where are you going to find another kind of job where you make the kind of money you do and get to spend all that time with Emily?" Brittany asks, "I understand if you don't _want_ to dance anymore, but if you're doing this for me, don't. I like that you get to spend all that time with Emily."

That's honestly not something you thought about before. You make great money for the four sometimes five nights a week you work and you do get to spend days at a time with Emily. You bite your lip and try to think of a job that would afford you those hours and that pay.

"Just think about it okay?" Brittany asks and kisses your forehead, "I know you don't want to dance forever and next school year, Emily will be going five days a week so…I don't know. Just think about it."

You nod, "Okay." What will it hurt to think about it?

She rolls back over and uses your arm to pull you flush against her, "Goodnight Santana. I love you."

"Love you too," you answer and hold her tighter around her waist.

You look less like a prizefighter the next day, which you decide, is a great thing. You're the first one awake and you place a quick order to room service before you get ready. When you're done getting ready and room service has delivered, you kneel down on the bed next to the youngest sleeping blonde, "Emily," you softly sing her name until her eyes flutter open.

"Guess what today is," you smile.

She grins sleepily, "It's my birthday."

You produce the cupcake that you ordered and light the single candle on top of it, "Make a wish baby girl."

She sits up with a wide smile and thinks a moment before blowing out the candle. She giggles when you take the candle out and hand her the cupcake. Her mouth drops open when she realizes that she gets to eat a cupcake before breakfast. Her wide eyes dart to Brittany who you can tell is just pretending to sleep. You press your finger to your lips and Emily mirrors you before taking a large bite out of the chocolate treat.

After breakfast, you all go to the convention center where they're having the cheerleading competition. Emily stands in her seat and dances along with the music. She dances better than some of the cheerleaders and when you see the Cheerios nostalgia washes over you. They're impeccable as always, Mandy being the shining star out of all of them. When the routine is over, you and the Pierces are all on your feet cheering like they already won, which they probably already did.

You tell everyone that you'll meet them at the aquarium because you have to pick up something from the apartment. "Hurry," Emily urges you, "We have to look at the eels together."

You smile down at her and kiss her head, "I'll be back in time to look at the eels."

"Be careful okay?" Brittany says and hugs you.

"You're going back to your apartment?" Mr. Pierce asks. When you nod he tells you that he's going with you. There's not much room for discussion. You don't really mind though. He's not the Pierce parent that you're uncomfortable with.

The cab ride over is only slightly awkward. Neither one of you say anything. You're both sitting in your seats, looking out opposite windows.

When you get out of the cab though, Mr. Pierce pays before you can. You're suddenly and completely irrationally worried about if the apartment is clean. You're nervous to see what he thinks of it. There are plenty of things wrong with the apartment and the building and that you don't want him to see.

The security door is boarded up where the glass was and as you're walking to the stairs you notice a tube of your lip gloss on the ground resting at the base of the first stair. You dip down and scoop it up. You're not going to use it anymore, but you're not going to leave it there to remind you everyday of what happened.

When you reach your hallway, you scan the walls. They've been repainted which you're thankful for. You didn't want Mr. Pierce to see that aftermath of what happened. There's a small indentation on your apartment door from where Richie was banging on it, but that's the only physical sign that something actually happened.

You unlock the door and lead Mr. Pierce in. He has his hands in his pockets and walks around, taking in everything. Luckily it is still clean and no one has broken in and trashed the place. You walk into the bedroom and get Emily's wrapped gift out from under your bed. Once it's safely under your arm, you step out and find Mr. Pierce standing in the middle of the empty living room space.

"No couch?" he asks with a smile.

You shake your head, "Brittany and Emily need the room to dance."

He smiles wider. "Do you mind if I take a peek at Emily's room?"

You shrug, "Go ahead."

When he goes into Emily's room, you set the gift down on the table and grab a water bottle from the refrigerator. You have no idea where you're going to look to find an apartment. You don't even know where to start.

"Her room is decorated beautifully," he walks out of Emily's room.

"Thanks," you nod, "She's got a good eye for little kid."

He looks around the living room again. After he deep breath she says, "This is very Brittany."

You don't know how or why, but you know that he's right. You nod with him and look out over the scuffed up floors. You get to watch Emily and Brittany dancing around in their socks for hours at a time and that makes you happier than you can explain.

"You know Brittany's only really needed two things to be happy," he says, his eyes warming the way Brittany's do when she's truly happy, "Three now that we have Emily."

"Dance," you tell him with a smile, "And…hats?"

He laughs and shakes his head, "Dance and her best friend." He rests his hand on your shoulder, "She's happy now. Happier than we've seen her in a long time. I want to thank you for helping her with that and for really taking care of her and Emily. It scares me to think of what would have happened had you not been here."

You look down at the water in your hand. You don't want to think of that either. It not only scares you, but it makes your heart feel like someone is squeezing it inside of your chest. You look back up at him and nod, "It's no problem. Really. I'd do it for them all over again."

"I have no doubt about that," he smiles and affectionately squeezes your shoulder, "C'mon let's get back to the party. We don't want to miss the eels."

You make it to the aquarium with plenty of time to see the eels. Emily clings to your legs like she always does and finally you just pick her up. Quinn's nieces are both pressed against the wall farthest from the eels. You're proud of your brave little girl.

Finally everyone convenes at Quinn's house. Emily and Mandy ride with Quinn so Brittany's car isn't so packed. You're on the back patio passing out paper plates for the outdoor birthday dinner. The girls are running around the backyard playing Power Rangers or super powered princesses or something. You know that there's a childproof gate around the pool, but you keep an eye on them just in case.

"C'mon girls," Quinn calls appearing next to you and setting the hamburgers and hotdogs fresh off of the grill onto the table. "It's time to eat."

Everyone starts making their way to the large rectangular glass table on the back porch then they hear Quinn call the girls. You and Quinn walk back inside to get the drinks.

"Thanks for letting us have her party here," you mention to Quinn as she digs in the refrigerator for something, "It would have been cramped in our apartment."

Quinn smiles kindly at you over her shoulder and stands up with a bottle of soda in her hand, "It's not a problem. It's gets lonely here ya know?"

You nod and understand. You used to get lonely in your apartment before two blondes appeared at your door. Quinn hands you a bowl of chips and the bottle of soda. She has stacks of plastic cups in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other.

"Oh," you say turning back around toward the kitchen to look at her, "Before I forget, can you watch Emily Thursday night?"

A knowing grin spreads across her face, but she goes ahead and asks anyway, "For what?"

"I'm going to take Brittany out."

"On a date?"

You nod, not able to contain your own overly elated smile, "On a date."

Quinn looks like she wants to hug you, but can't. "I'm so proud of you S."

You roll your eyes, but internally love it, "So can you?"

"Of course."

You haven't actually asked Brittany yet, but you doubt she'll say no. You were thinking about your job earlier when Brittany's dad was talking about how he was glad you were there when Richie showed up. If you didn't have the job that you do, you wouldn't have been home when Richie decided to attack. You would have been in an office or something and you wouldn't know what happened until it was too late. Maybe you'll look for a different job later, but for now, you'll stick with the one you have.

"Gross, what is that?" Emily asks, pointing to the plate containing the hamburgers. She's indicated a patty that doesn't look like the other ones. It has a greenish tint and you're not sure if it's actually good anymore.

Quinn grins and her niece takes over explaining, "It's a veggie burger." Quinn picks it up and places it on her bun.

You eye her from your place at the table between Emily and Mandy. "Since when are you a vegetarian?"

The blonde in question just dismissively shrugs and helps one of her nieces with putting ketchup on her hamburger.

After dinner and Emily opens her presents then receives a happy birthday phone call from your mom (which shocks you a little), everyone goes back inside. The adults are talking and laughing while the little girls play with their toys on the ground.

Soon enough though it's time to go home. Mandy still has a six a.m. wake up call and your little rugrat is getting sleepy.

After you drop the Pierces off at their hotel you head back to your own hotel. Brittany lays a sleeping Emily down on the bed and proceeds to change into her sleeping clothes. You're in the bathroom brushing her teeth when she walks in to do the same.

You finish before her and stand in the doorway smiling at her. With the mouth full of foam she giggles and says, "What?"

She's so adorable even doing everyday things like that. You lean on the frame and smile bashfully at her. You really are nervous when logically you know you shouldn't be. Finally you spit it out, "What are you doing Thursday night?"


	18. Chapter 18

You're walking Emily through the hallways of the school when you hear the ambulances. You brush it off because it is New York City after all and kiss Emily's forehead before watching her run to her friends in the classroom and walking back out. There is a group of moms standing in the middle of the stairs to get down to the street. They're all the botox-ed preppy moms that you'd expect to be standing in a circle, gossiping like they have nothing else better to do.

Because they don't.

"They were just walking inside."

"So sudden."

You're curious enough to stand next to the group and ask one of them what happened. She explains that a little boy had an asthma attack while he was walking into the school with his nanny. Someone called EMS, and now they're on the way to the hospital.

"Can you imagine?"

Santana slowly shook her head. She couldn't imagine anything like that happening to Emily. She would be devastated. She was standing there thinking so long that it took her a moment to notice the group of mothers all quietly whispering and not-so-subtly peering at her from behind each other.

Santana rolled her eyes. She bit her tongue to keep herself from telling them that when their husbands were 'working late' they were really staring at her ass. That seemed a little immature and wouldn't bode well for Emily if the moms told their kids about you.

As you walk back to your car, you think about what would happen if Emily did happen to get sent to the hospital. You wouldn't know what to do with yourself. You'd be completely distraught. You'd be… you'd be standing outside of the fucking hospital room.

You have no legal guardianship over Emily. Nothing. You couldn't see her or make any decisions or anything. You'd be fucking stuck outside when Brittany went in to see her because you're not legally 'family'.

You let that thought fester in your head as you clean the apartment. Then as you shower and change. And all the way to the theatre to take Brittany some lunch.

As you two sit in a dressing room she shares with three other girls, Brittany looks over at you while she munches on some French fries. "What's wrong?"

"I was just thinking," you state. You don't want to just throw it out there. It doesn't seem the like the kind of thing that you say and then it just happens. So you settle for, "One of the boys at Emily's school had to go to the hospital today."

"Oh my gosh," Brittany looks at you wide-eyed. You can see it behind her eyes. She's doing the same thing you did. She's going through what she would do if Emily needed to go to the hospital. "Is he okay?"

You nod, looking down at your hands. You're feeling less and less comfortable on the worn brown sofa that is shoved in the corner of their dressing room, "It got me thinkin' ya know? About what would happen if something happened to Emily and I was the only one there?" You scrape one of your nails against the flat surface of another hoping that Brittany would maybe still be receptive to the idea.

You glance up at Brittany whose eyes are firmly on you. When your eyes meet hers they automatically lock together. Then a hint of a smile graces her lips and she softly kisses you. "I already have the guardianship papers at home."

"What?" you ask. You're shell-shocked. How could she know? How long had she had them? "For me?"

"You're her mom as much as I am." Brittany rests her chin on your shoulder and laces your fingers together. "And I always knew you'd change your mind."

You smile and rest your head against hers, letting out a sigh. "Thanks, B."

"Are you sure you don't want some?" Brittany offers you some of her gyro.

You shake your head, "I'm meeting Quinn for lunch in a few minutes." You're more than willing to be late. You like just sitting here with Brittany.

When she's done, she wads up the foil that her gyro came in and tosses it into the trashcan across the room. She grins, thrusting a victorious fist pump in the air at having made it in. You laugh and hug her. You stay with her as along as you can, all the way through her lunch break. She kisses you a little longer than necessary and you smile into the kiss, absolutely loving that you're allowing yourself to kiss her now, even though you still feel a little tingling in the back of your neck like you're doing something wrong.

You decide to walk to meet Quinn for lunch. She's sitting at a small round table for two, tapping away at her phone when you sit down. "Sorry I'm late."

"No problem," Quinn smiles and looks up from her phone.

You both order, and you tell Quinn about your plan to adopt Emily. She tells you that's the best idea you'd had since sixth grade. When you ask her what your best idea in sixth grade was, she tells you that it was making Brittany your best friend.

Quinn keeps texting through the entire lunch and finally you lean over and peek at who it is. "Mike? Who's Mike?"

She smirks, "You'd think after four years of high school together you'd know who he is."

"Mike Chang?" You furrow your eyebrows.

Quinn nods, "Yeah."

"You're still keeping up with him?"

She grins, "Yeah. We ran into each other in the lobby at Julliard, like three years ago."

"You didn't go to Julliard." This conversation is getting weirder and weirder.

Quinn flips her hair back and picks up her phone. "I was there waiting for a friend. Anyway, do you mind if Mike stops by? He has something for me and he's like two blocks away."

You shrug, "Whatever."

You both chat about little things until Mike walks in. Surprisingly enough, he's wearing a yellow and black plaid shirt that's unbuttoned over a white shirt…okay, so it's not that surprising. He smiles and hugs you and then Quinn.

Mike sits down in a chair next to Quinn's. The table is not all that big so their shoulders are practically touching. He takes the messenger bag off of his shoulder and opens the front pocket. He extracted a small bag and then pulled a black rope bracelet out that had a silver owl charm hanging from it. "Look what I found."

"Where was it?" Quinn asks, taking it out of his hand.

"It was under my bed," he chuckles and sets his bag on the ground. He looks to you and smiles, "It's been forever. How have you been, Santana?"

You take a moment to answer because you're still trying to process what's going on in front of you. "Uh, fine. I've been okay."

Quinn smirks and looks at Mike, "She's going to adopt Emily."

"That's great," Mike's smile gets wider and now it's directed at you.

The blonde looks back at Mike, "I wish you could have come to the party. Emily gets along so well with my nieces."

"I told you they would," Mike puts his arm around her shoulders. "Any daughter of Brittany's is bound to get along with everyone."

You can feel your mouth hanging slightly open. That stupid grin on Quinn's face and the fact that her bracelet was under his bed. She's told him about you and was invited to the party? And his arm around her… You have to ask, "Are you two…dating?"

Mike looks at Quinn whose cheeks blush a light pink. Mike smirks, "You didn't tell her."

"I just haven't found the right time," Quinn looks down at her hands that rest daintily on her skirt. "We're just like, getting to be friends again. I didn't want to spring it on her."

Mike smiles softly at her and kisses her head, "Don't worry about it. You don't have to tell anyone until you're ready."

Quinn nods and looks up at him through her lashes, smiling lightly, "Thanks Mike."

He gives her one last big hug and then stands up. He looks to you. "Sorry that I have to leave so soon. I have another audition to get to." He pauses next to you, and you look up at him with what you're sure is a completely dumbfounded look on your face. He places his hand on your shoulder and says, "Don't ask okay? Not 'til she's ready?"

All you can do is nod because you don't know that the fuck else is going on.

He gives you a smile and then walks out the door.

You finally turn back to Quinn who is absently stirring her drink with her straw, not looking at you. You really are completely lost and had you been in high school, you would hound Quinn until she explained, but you're not in high school anymore. You're going to handle this maturely and sit in an awkward silence until one of you says something.

"So, do you work tonight?" she asks, five minutes of silence later.

You nod, "Yeah. Britt's going to pick up Emily."

"Are you going to talk to Emily about the adoption?" Quinn asks, sipping her water.

"Yup," you nod and toss your napkin onto your plate. "I'm going to do it tonight." You've already planned the whole thing. You don't want to fuck this up. This adoption is really, really important to you.

Quinn stands with you and walks outside with you. "Look, thanks for not asking about that thing with Mike…It's complicated."

"No problem," you shrug and shove your hands into your pockets. You really don't know what else to say. You're dying to know, but she already thanked you for not asking so you can't now.

You head back to your apartment and find the papers that Brittany told you about. You spend almost two hours going over them, reading every line. You smile every time you see that Brittany has already signed everything that she needs to sign. It's just up to you to sign your part.

You dig around in your purse and find a pen that Emily won in one of her classes in school. She gave it to you when she got home and told you that the tigers on the side made her think of you. You smile at the pen for a moment before signing all of the lines that you have to sign and sliding all of the papers back into the envelope.

You're not going to file them until after you talk to Emily so you place the envelope on top of your refrigerator for safekeeping.

You finally lay in bed and take a nap before Brittany and Emily get home. You hold Brittany's pillow to your chest and easily drift off to sleep.

A gentle hand on your face wakes you up. "Hey baby," Brittany's lips softly brush against yours. "You told me to wake you up when we got home." She kisses your cheek and your forehead before reaching your lips again.

You smile and stretch as you open your eyes. That's quite possibly the best way in the whole world to wake up.

"Where's Emily?" you ask, covering a yawn with the back of her hand.  
>"She's putting up her backpack," Brittany smiles. "Did you find them?"<br>You nod, "And I signed them."  
>She jumps on you, wrapping her arm around you and showering her face with kisses.<p>

There's a crash outside of the bedroom door, and you and Brittany race out the door. You quickly survey the situation and finally see what happened. There's a plastic cup laying on the ground at Emily's feet, water shotgunning from the top.

She looks up at you both with watery eyes. "I'm sorry."

Brittany's the first one moving. She walks over to Emily and scoops her up. "It's okay. It was an accident." She carries Emily over to the table and sits her down in a chair. "Santana wants to talk to you sweetie. I'll clean up the mess."

You shake out your hands and swallow. You didn't think you would be nervous for this. This is Emily. You spend the majority of your time with her, and you like to think you've grown a strong bond.

You take a seat in the chair next to her and she looks expectantly at you. "Emily?"

She gives you a wide smile, just waiting.

"You know what adopting is right?" you ask her.

She nods, "It's when mommy loved me so much she wanted to be my mommy and I loved her so much I wanted her to be my mommy."

You glance over at Brittany who is beaming as she fills up a clean cup and makes her way over to the table. She sets the water in front of Emily and sits in a chair across the table from you both.

"Well, I want to adopt you too," you add.

She looks confused, her eyebrows arcing skyward. Her eyes dart to Brittany, "You don't want to be my mommy anymore?"

"No," Brittany quickly shakes her head, "I love being your mommy." She smiles at her daughter and reaches across the table to take her hand, "I'll always be your mommy. Forever. Santana just wants to be..." Brittany panics, looking to you for what to say next.

"I want to help Mommy take care of you," you dip your head down to catch her little eyes. "Because I love you too."

Emily bites her lip and looks between the both of you. She opens her mouth and pauses before adding, "So you're both going to be my mommies?"

"Sorta," you shrug. "She's going to be your mommy. You can still call me Santana or whatever you want. I just want you to know what's going on."

"So you're going to live with us forever and ever?" Emily asks, growing more excited the longer she talks.

You hesitate to nod. You really don't want to make a promise that you aren't one hundred percent sure that you can keep. You're one long timeline of fuck-ups. You're trying to break the cycle, but...there's no telling. "I will take care of you forever and ever."

Emily doesn't seem to notice that you changed her sentence, and she happily hugs you. She asks if she can go play and you tell her that she can.

Of course the one person who did notice you change the sentence is sitting across the table from you. You feel like such an asshole. She looks disappointed. You could kick your own ass. You flex your jaw trying to gather the words to make her feel better. All you can really manage is, "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head and stands, "I get it." Although it doesn't really seem like she does. She walks into the bedroom, and you can hear the bathroom door being closed and the shower being turned on.

When she gets out of the shower twenty minutes later, she takes her time blow-drying her hair and getting dressed in black dance pants and a tank top. She walks into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator, "What do you want for dinner?" You can't really decipher her tone.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat and shrug, "Whatever you want."

She quickly prepares a dinner for you because you have to leave before she and Emily are going to eat. You quietly and painfully awkwardly eat while she finishes making dinner for herself and Emily.

Finally, it's time for you to leave, and she hasn't spoken to you since she asked you what you wanted to eat. You take your time finding your bag and getting a jacket out of the closet, waiting for her to say something or waiting for your stupid self to have an epiphany so you know what to say to make it right.

The moment never comes. You leave the apartment with your head down and tears in your eyes.


	19. Chapter 19

You and Brittany manage to pick out an apartment together in a matter of hours without ever actually seeing each other. You've been taking pictures and sending them to her and she's been telling you what she likes and what she doesn't. She's going to pick up Emily early and meet you at the new building so that she can sign the papers and put down the deposit that her parents gave her. The landlord was sympathetic to your sob story and made sure that you could move in immediately.

You're also planning a date. It's going to be a desperate stab at redemption. You know you fucked up yet again and Brittany's been distant. You hate yourself for it and you need her to smile again. So you're trying to organize the perfect date as well as pack all of your stuff and move it now because when your date is over, you're going to the new apartment.

There's a knock on your door as you're sitting in the middle of a bunch of half empty boxes in your old apartment. You huff in frustration and get up to answer it.

Quinn smiles at you and walks in. Mike just sort of stands in the hallway before stepping inside, "Quinn said that you may need help moving some bigger stuff. I borrowed by buddy's truck."

You sigh and nearly hug Quinn. You completely forgot about moving the beds. "It's so hard to plan a move and a date in the same day."

Quinn nods and walked around the already empty living room, "Does your new apartment have a dance space for Brittany and Em?"

You nod, "Of course." That was your number one requirement when you went looking for apartments. You absolutely love it when Emily and Brittany dance around for hours and hours. You could watch them forever. Their new dance floor is where normal people would put their living room. It's right off of the kitchen sorta like this one. The only major difference in your new apartment is that Emily's room is in the same tiny hallway that yours and Brittany's room is on with the sole bathroom between them.

Quinn does a little twirl in the middle of the living room and Mike chuckles walking up to her. He chivalrously offers his hand to her and she takes it. They starts dancing together, a sort of ballroom thing that looks rehearsed.

You're so confused by their relationship at this point. You don't know if their together or they're friends with benefits or just friends. You finally shake yourself out of your thoughts and walk back into the bedroom where you nearly fold Brittany's clothes before putting them in boxes. You just shove all of your clothes into a box. You're tired of packing.

After a few minutes, Quinn steps in and grabs an empty box telling you that she's going to go pack Emily's room. Mike gets a box and asks if it's okay for him to pack your kitchen stuff. You nod in the affirmative and he takes off.

Because of the small amount of things you actually own, it only takes half an hour to finish packing your stuff. It takes another fifteen minutes to get all the boxes fit in to Brittany's car.

Quinn just stands to the side giggling and occasionally directing you and Mike as you try to maneuver your and Brittany's mattress out of the building. Emily's bed is much easier as is the small dining table. You put the nightstands in the front seat of Mike's friend's truck and make one last sweep of the apartment.

As you're walking back out to Brittany's car, you get a call. When you answer, she tells you that she's already picked up Emily and they're on their way to the new apartment. You tell her that you're on the way with Quinn and Mike.

When you get there, what else but dancing is happening in the middle of the new living room to the music blaring from Brittany's phone. Quinn jumps in and Mike of course follows. You stand watching the group for a little over five minutes before you decide to start bringing up boxes. You manage to get up most of the boxes without the dance party noticing.

Mike and Brittany help you with the mattresses and dining table. It doesn't really take that long for everything you own to be in your new apartment. Quinn and Emily decide to put the sheets on the beds as you and Mike unpack the kitchen things. All in all it takes about three hours to get everything unpacked and the boxes broken down. You give them to Mike because he says he has some friends that can use them.

"No couch or TV?" Mike asks, leaning back on the kitchen counter sipping his water.

Brittany smiles and shakes her head, "We don't need a TV."

You check your phone to make sure the reservations you made are confirmed. You got the confirmation email a few hours ago, but you'd read over it at least twenty times making sure everything is perfect.

"Are you ready to get out of here kiddo?" Quinn asks Emily, kneeling down to be level with her.

Emily nods, "Are Kate and Alyson going to be at your house?"

"Not tonight honey," Quinn glances up at you and Brittany, "But I'm picking them up tomorrow morning."

You know what Quinn's asking. You look to Brittany because you usually leave this kind of decision up to her. She nods to Quinn and Quinn looks to you. You have no idea why she did, but you nod as well. When Quinn asks if Emily wants to spend the night, the tiny blonde hugs Quinn's neck and starts talking about all the things she, Alyson, and Kate are going to do the next day.

You quickly pack a bag for Emily and Quinn, Mike, and Emily get on their way.

You're absolutely beat, but you know that you have an energy reserve deep down for the date tonight. You fall onto the bed and pull a pillow over your face. A fifteen minutes nap is all you want, but you hear Brittany padding toward the bedroom and you know you're not going to get to sleep.

When the footsteps stop short of the bed you peek out from under the pillow. She's standing in the doorway, leaning on it. She smiles when she sees you looking.

"Do you want to shower first or do you want me to?" she finally asks.

"You can," you get more comfortable on the bed.

When she disappears you let your eyes slide closed. You didn't actually mean to fall asleep. But the soft dip in the bed next to you wakes you up.

You let the pillow slide off of your head as you sit up. You know you have to start moving. You glance at the girl next to you. Her damp hair is flared out over her pillow and the only thing covering her is a towel.

She gives you a sweet smile, "What should I wear?"

"Something nice," you tell her and get up off of the bed before you decide that you want to ravish her instead of woo her.

"Are we going somewhere nice?" she asks, sitting up, holding her towel up with one hand.

You nod. It's the nicest place you could go without feeling like you could have bought a car instead of having dinner. Plus you have an in with the matre'd. He's the bouncer at the club and works as a matre'd for extra cash. He doesn't make as much as you do because people don't go to strip clubs to tip the bouncers.

You quickly shower and dry your hair. You do your make-up and hair before leaving the bathroom. You find Brittany isn't in the bedroom so you slip on your dress and your heels and walk out of the hallway.

She's sitting at the tap, your laptop open in front of her. She has one leg crossed over the other under a shimming golden dress. A pair of matching gladiator heels were strapped onto her feet. Her jewelry consisted of a bronze cuff and a thin necklace. Her hair was curled in at the tips. You wet your lips and try to not stare at her like all you want to do is rip that dress off of her and carry her back to bed.

"Ready?" you ask lightly when she looked up from the laptop to you.

She grins and nods, picking up her clutch.

You take a cab to the restaurant. You feel really awkward as soon as you sat in the cab. You don't know if you can hold her hand yet or put your arm around her. You opened the door for her so you have got to get some point for that. You just don't want to mess this up. She's been nice to your and smiling for most the time you and were alone together, but you know that you still fucked up really bad last night.

You pay the cab driver and get out first, helping her out. She smiles at you. You know it's a genuine smile so you return it. She kisses your cheek as she stands and waits for you on the sidewalk while you close the door.

You're still not sure on the whole hand holding thing so you keep your hands to yourself as you talk into the restaurant. You almost don't recognize your friend who is now in a suit standing behind the matre'd station.

He smiles when you walk up and you roll your eyes when he asks for your name. You tell him though and he nods, asking you to follow him.

Once you're seated he tells you that your server will be with you shortly. A bottle of wine arrives at your table a few seconds after he walks off. You look around and catch his eyes as he peeks at your from the front of the restaurant. He winks with a smile and disappears.

You can see Brittany looking all around, absorbing everything. The cream colored linens and the dim lights make the atmosphere cozy. The chandeliers and dark woods give it a romantic feel. There's a glass wall on the opposite side of the restaurant that gives the perfect view of the river.

Brittany may know that you may like laid-back dates, but you know that she loves to be dazzled. She loves dressing up and going out. She wants glass slippers and carriage rides. She wants to be swept off of her feet. And you want to do it for her.

"This is so nice Santana," she smiles at you from her side of the table, "You didn't have to."

You nod, "I wanted to." You take a sip of your wine and look up at the waiter appears. You both order your entrees and sit quietly just enjoying each other's company.

"Look," you look down at the table cloth finally deciding to say what you've been planning to say, "I'm sorry about last night…I…I panicked. I don't want to promise that I won't fuck up because that's pretty much all I do," you don't look up at her. You're scared to know the look on her face, "but I meant it when I said I'd always take care of you both. That's the only thing I know for sure. Because you might get tired of me always-"

"Santana," she interrupts you softly.

You finally look up at her. She doesn't look mad or disappointed. She looks understanding as she reaches across the table and takes your hand. "I understand why you said that last night. It just…It hurt a little bit. But I thought about it a lot and I understand. You've been through a lot. But we're together now. I know you're still going to, but you don't have to worry. We're gonna be okay."

You bite your lip and look at your hands joined on the table. Then you look up at her face. Her eyes are conveying all kinds of love and understanding that you don't feel like you deserve.

"I love you," she tells you sincerely as she runs her thumb over the back of your hand.

You finally let out a watery smile and nod, "I love you too."

She squeezes your hand softly, "Then this is going to work."

You suddenly feel like you're in high school again crying and complaining that everyone hates you. Brittany would just assure you that you're an awesome person and she'd love you no matter what. You don't want to cry tonight though so you just smile at her. "Thanks Britt."

You just sit there for a minute. Everything moves around you, but you and Brittany are frozen in time, just looking at each other, holding hands. You see something flutter out of the corner of your eye. You feel the air brush the side of your hand before you see exactly what happened. The napkin fell off of the tray of the server walking past you and landed on your table. A corner of it is resting on the back of Brittany's hand. She grins widely and moves the entire napkin over both of your hands. At that moment, she couldn't possibly ever be anymore perfect.

The dinner is pleasant after that. You split a dessert and take care of the check without her seeing. After the bottle of wine you split, you're more relaxed than normal so you go for her hand when you step out of the restaurant. She pulls you closer, lacing your fingers together.

"Anything else you wanted to do tonight?" you ask Brittany. It's not often that you don't have to be home to put Emily to bed or that you don't have to go to work. You have the rest of the night to enjoy, just you and Brittany.

Her eyes are directed upward at the buildings or the sky. You don't know exactly what she's looking at or for, but she has the whimsical look on her face that you absolutely adore. She finally answers, her eyes turning to you with glee, "I have an idea."

You two walk in the general direction of your apartment for a few minutes. You're about to suggest taking a cab because the heels you are wearing are definitely not made for walking, when she starts to slow down. She looks around, studying the little line of shops that you're walking between. Then she grins and pulls you across the street. You get pushed into a little liquor store with the instructions of 'get anything' while she disappears out the door and down the street.

You look around the store for a few minutes, trying to decide what anything means. The wire racks are filled with every kind of liquor you could ever want. Finally you grab a bottle of champagne and a bottle of vodka. You're still pissed when you get carded, but you're not going to let anything spoil your mood tonight. Tonight is about you and Brittany.

When you walk out of the store, Brittany's standing there, paper bag in hand, looking all around her. When she sees you, she takes your hand with a mischievous grin on her face.

You're pulled to the nearest street corner where she flags down a cab. You try to get a peek of what's inside her bag as you're being driven though the city, but she pulls it away from you. You keep trying to figure out what it is, but so far you have no guesses or clues.

When you get to your apartment, you pay the driver and you open the door of your building for Brittany. You do the same when you get to your apartment door. She smiles and drops a light kiss on your lips as she walks past. She tells you to open whatever you got and disappears down the hallway where the bedrooms are.

As you're searching for the wine opener, you hear music start. You softly smile when the sound of running water is added. You really hope that this is what you think it is. You need the kind a relaxation a bath with Brittany always brought you in high school.

You forgo the wine glasses and just take the entire bottle into the bathroom. She's sitting on the edge of the bathtub, sprinkling some kind of bath salt or something into the bubbling water. The paper bag she had is now flattened under a pink tinted bubble bath.

When she sees you, she smiles and stands up. You shake your head and sit her back down. She looks questioningly at her until you kneel at her feel, lifting one heel-clad foot in your hands. You slowly pull the zipper down on the back of the shoe and look up at her.

You can never describe what it feels like to look into her eyes and see the kind of love she has for you. It's like by just looking at you, she wraps you in a warm, loved feeling and you're completely covered in it. You don't look away as you slide the shoe off of her foot.

The other shoe comes off just as easily. She runs her fingers through your hair and stops when her fingers get to the base of your neck. She guides your lips to hers and kisses you like she's trying to convey all that love that you feel just looking at her. All of the love that she holds for you and only you.

As your lips slide against hers, you rest your hand on her cheek. There, as you're kneeling on the floor of the bathroom, you know that you'll never love anyone else like you love Brittany. You were made for her and you're ready to fully become hers.

This feels like such a revelation for you although part of you has always known and everyone else has been telling you for years. You finally accepted it.

Brittany slowly pulls away from you and holds your face in her hands, "What's wrong?"

When her thumbs brush your cheeks, you realize that they're wet. You give her the biggest smile you've ever shown and shake your head, "Nothing." You take a deep breath and kiss her forehead as you stand, pulling her with you.

You gather the bottom of her dress and pull it over her head, revealing that she's only wearing a black lace hipsters underneath. You can't stop yourself from running your hands up her sides, feeling her smooth, hot skin against your hands in invigorating.

You look into her eyes when you hook your fingers into the top of her panties. You want to make sure that it's okay with her that you completely remove all of her clothes.

She gives you a small nod with a breathless look on her face. With a miniscule tug, the material easily slides down her long legs. It's your turn to feel breathless. No matter now many times you see her body in it's entirety, it never ceases to amaze you.

Then you take her hand, helping her step into the steaming water. When she settles in the water, you quickly rid yourself of your clothes and lower yourself into the water on the opposite end of the bathtub from her.

You pick up the bottle of champagne and take a drink before passing it to her. After a healthy drink she giggles and hands it back. You feel your legs brush against hers under the bubbles. Your skin glides so easily against hers. She smiles and leans back against the wall of the tub.

For a moment, you swipe away some bubbles and look down at your hand floating in the rose colored water. When you look up though, Brittany is watching you. "What?" you ask, abnormally bashful.

"I'm just so happy," she grins. The water moves with her as she slides closer to you. Before you know it, her back is pressed against your front. Her hands find both of yours and her fingers slip between yours. You can't resist placing a tender kiss on her neck.

"I love you Santana," she says softly, tilting her head back to capture your lips.

You smile and kiss her again, "I love you too."

You both stay like that, just relaxing in each other's arms until the water turns cold. You both hop out, grab towels and race to the bedroom. She's so beautiful, laughing and running down the hall, a half empty bottle of champagne in her hand, trying not to spill it. You dive into the bed first and she more carefully hops into bed. You're the first one under the covers, but she's close behind you.

After a swig from the bottle she hands it to you and her eyes light up, "You know what we have to do now?"

"What?" you ask her, sipping from the bottle.

A huge smile takes over her face. "We have to make a fort."


	20. Chapter 20

When you wake up, you smile. You're still tangled in Brittany under the sheet fort. There's a dip starting to form a little bit in the middle. It takes you a moment to remember why you have a shirt and panties on and why Brittany is donning the same. You have to repress a laugh when you remember your two a.m. ice cream run to the bodega on the corner.

You close your eyes, reveling in the moment of waking up with her. You wake up with her every morning, but this time, you wake up after hours of making love in the very bed you were so intent on avoiding a mere week ago.

You lazily open your eyes when you can feel her shift in your arms. You watch her relaxed expression tense in a squint to keep the light out. You chuckle and kiss her forehead as her eyes flutter open. When she sees you looking at her, she grins and ducks her head, burying her face in your neck.

"Good morning," you chuckle and kiss her head, sweeping her mussed hair away from her face.

You feel her lips connected with the skin of your neck. "Good morning." She pulls back and flops onto her back. You watch her examine the fort and laugh, "We're awesome."

"So awesome," you rest your hand on her stomach, feeling the taut muscles tense under your touch before relaxing. You rub your fingers over her shirt and keep watching her.

She furrows her eyebrows. "Is that one of the chairs from the kitchen?"

You follow her eyes to the head of the bed. Sure enough one of the chairs is turned upside down, the back of the chair wedged between the bed and the wall with the sheet hung over two of the legs. You both look at each other and burst out laughing.

As you're laughing, she rolls over on top of you and, when her lips get within a breath of yours, the laughing fades. She smirks and leans forward, her lips pressing against yours, claiming them as her own. You willingly surrender. She can have everything you have and everything you are.

Her hands start to sneak under your shirt when you hear a creaking noise. You can see the chair leaning down above her. You wrap your arms around her waist and roll both of you over so that you're on the edge of the bed on top of her right before the chair falls onto the bed and the sheet rests against your back.

She laughs again and pulls you down for a kiss. You make love under the sheet, on the edge of the bed with a chair on the bed next to you. It's not particularly normal, but it's how you and Brittany operate. And it works.

You're still on your date high over the next few days. The kisses and the touches are frequent. You miss being able to sleep tangled up in her, but you plan to pay back Brittany's parents for the moving expenses so you've been working as much as possible to gather the money.

After you drop Brittany off at work and Emily off at school, you meet Quinn for lunch. She told you that she has something to tell you.

When you walk in, you're distracted. It's Wednesday, so you're not expecting stellar tips tonight, but hopefully enough to make up for missing some quality family time.

You meet at a bistro Quinn suggests and, so far, she has been quiet most of the time. She's just sort of munching on her salad, thinking to herself much like you are. The way her eyebrow creases, you feel like her thoughts are much more light-hearted than yours.

She makes a sort of noise, maybe she was clearing her throat, but you look up. Quinn takes a bite of her salad before meeting your eyes, "You still looking to get out of your job?"

You shrug, "Sorta. I mean, I'm kinda looking, but I'm not in a rush. I'm twenty-two, I'll have this body for, what? Two more years?"

She laughs at your joke and pushes her salad around. "Well, I have a job for you if you want it."

That's not what you expected. You tilt your head, urging her to continue.

"The company I work for is looking for a copy editor," Quinn nods, her hair bouncing around her face. "You could do it from home. They'll just send you what to read. From what I can remember, you were a perfectionist when it came to essays in high school."

"You have a job?" you ask her. You figure that she's either living off of Mike (you still can't tell if they're together or not) or her dad finally kicked it. She's always available when you call her, day or night. She babysits for you often and usually on short notice.

She smirks an amused glint in her eyes. "I do."

You think it over. Working from home would be perfect. You wouldn't have to work nights and be exhausted all the time. But there's one thing you need to know. Working from home only checks off one box for your ideal job. The other box says, "How much?"

"At least what you're making now," Quinn shrugs. She takes a long sip of her water. "Probably more depending and how many copies you can get through."

"Really?" you ask. It does sound like the kind of thing you could do. You can read and make changes while Emily's at school and after Brittany gets home from work. "Are you sure? Like this is a real thing?"

Quinn nods. The way she does it assures you. "I talked to my boss this morning, and I asked specifically about you." Then the assurance is gone.

"And they'll hire me on your word?" you ask, feeling like this is too good to be true. "Just like that." You snap your fingers.

Quinn looks at you with a smirk on her face, "They will. I make them a lot of money. They take me at my word every time."

You really want to know what she means by that. You want to know why she's been so mysterious lately. She's always avoided the question of money and how she acquired her house so you hope this will clarify, "What do you do for them exactly?"

The blonde smiles and rests her fork on the edge of her plate. "Well," Quinn reaches into her bag and pulls out a book, "I work for a publishing company… Sort of." She hands you the book, "This is my newest book."

The book hangs over the table for a full minute before you can speak again. "You write books?" You take the book from her hand and look it over. The front of it has a sticky note that says January of next year. "This one isn't out yet?"

Quinn shakes her head and picks up the fork to resume eating. "And it's your first assignment."

"Assignment?" you ask turning the book over in your hand. "How do you know I want the job?"

The blonde across the table from you slumps her shoulders, "I don't, but…can you just read it? I think there's something wrong with it." Her solid demeanor fades and she looks vulnerable.

"What's wrong with it?" you ask, looking at the name on the cover, which shocks you more than Quinn's profession.

She huffs. "If I knew, I would fix it."

You ignore her answer. "Lucy Berry?"

"It's a pen name," she answers, her eyes glued to her plate.

"Berry?" you have to ask. At this point, things are getting really weird for you. "Like Rachel Berry?"

"Like Rachel Berry…" Quinn trails off, "My girlfriend."

Okay, you thought you may fall off of your chair before upon finding out her profession, but now you think you may just stroke out. "You and…Rachel Berry…are dating?"

"And living together," Quinn states, completely hiding her eyes from you. "Well, for the most part, it's just me in that giant house. She's on tour a lot and does signings and press tours and things…"

She seems sad as she talks. You tap your fork on your plate. "So you're…lonely?"

Her eyes snap to you like you struck a nerve. She lowers her eyes again. "Yeah…" She pauses and takes a deep breath, "I mean, sometimes…"

"So Mike is?" you lead her.

"My best friend," Quinn states, "Barring Rachel, of course. He's been there for me since we all moved to New York together. We all got two joined apartments right next door to each other. We just kind of got them together and decided on how to split it up when we got there. Rachel was never home – always at auditions and acting classes. She and Finn broke up, and he moved back to Lima then….we…we got close and then really close and then…really close."

"I don't have to know how really close you got," you put your hands up and shake your head.

She smiles sadly and leans back in her chair. "Writing really started as a way for me to deal with being so far away from my mother and sister and pretty much on my own for the first time. Anyway, she started getting acting jobs and my first manuscript got picked up. The next year, we moved in together in Manhattan Beach. Now she's…" her voice trails off and gets low, "never home."

"I'm sorry, Q," you tell her, leaning forward a little bit. You don't like this being too serious and too awkward for too long so you try to joke, "We can be bored housewives together. We can start taking a spinning class and start having lunch with other Broadway and dancing wives where we gossip about the professional athletes' wives."

"Wives?" Quinn quirks an amused eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, but are not defensive about it. "You know what I mean."

She nods, "Well, if you take out the gossip circles, it sounds like a good time."

You know that she just told you something that she's protective of. You like that she did that. You like that you're getting closer to Quinn because she's your only non-stripper friend who isn't Brittany or a six year old. "Well, you know that whenever you get lonely, you can come over or call me or whatever."

In true Quinn manner, she avoids your hand extension, but you don't mind. You know it comes with the Quinn friend territory. "So you're going to take the job?" Quinn asks, pointing to the book on the table next to you.

"Don't I need to fill out paperwork and stuff?" you ask.

She explains to you where the office is and where you can look over your contract tomorrow. She tells you who to talk to and tell them that she sent you. Just read over the book she gave you when you can.

You smile at her. "I don't even know how to thank you."

"You don't have to," she smiles back, "Just make me the sole babysitter of your little angel."

You've wondered about why Quinn doesn't have any kids of her own yet, and when you ask her, she smiles softly. "I don't want to have a baby when one of the parents is gone all the time. It wouldn't be fair to the baby or Rachel."

You nod understandingly. You don't know what you'd do if you didn't have Brittany. You certainly don't feel like you could raise Emily alone.

Quinn shook her head like she was trying to shake the thoughts out of it. "It doesn't matter right now. We're still young."

"But you've wanted kids since I can remember," you say to her. You don't want to upset her. You just want to know why she's not really telling the whole truth.

She exhales, "I just can't right now. No matter how much I want to. I'm under contract for two more books anyway. I need to get those out of the way because I don't think I'll have much time to write if I have a baby."

"And Rachel's gone all the time," you finish for her.

Her eyes drop to the table, "Yeah. The reason I didn't tell you about her immediately is because…" she swallows hard, and you want to reach across the table and hold her hand. But because you're you, you don't. "Because her agent doesn't think it's a good idea for anyone to know about us just yet."

You become angry with the little diva that used to just annoy you in high school. You seem to remember her standing up for a lot more back then. "So she's hiding you?"

Quinn shakes her head, "It's not like that." Quinn's response is low and it breaks your heart the way her voice is shaking. She blinks rapidly for a few seconds before looking around. "Can we just drop it?"

You nod. You don't want to pressure her. She already looks upset and it seems like you get all protective around blondes now.

"God, we're so old," you finally say as Quinn pays the check, "We have jobs and grown up problems. Why can't we just go get drunk and party?"

"Because we're actually grown-ups," she smiles at you.

You part ways, making her promise to call you later. You're trying to figure out how to get her over to your apartment more to hang out and not let it seem like you're doing it on purpose. You also need to find a way to contact Rachel and have a talk with her.

As soon as Brittany and Emily get home, you explain to Brittany what's going on with Quinn. She doesn't seem as shocked as you were. When you ask her if she knew, she tells you that she had her suspicions. She saw pictures of Rachel one time when she was looking for Emily's lost shoe in Quinn's bedroom.

You stir the sauce for dinner and pull the wooden spoon out to taste it. "She's so sad and like, weirdly happy. I don't get it."

"They're in love," Brittany shrugs, "And it's complicated."

You toss some more oregano into the sauce and shake your head, "Does it always have to be complicated?"

You feel Brittany stand behind you and wrap her arms around your waist. "No. It doesn't." You smile when she kisses your neck.

It's a joint effort to set the table, and once you're all seated, you smile and tell Brittany the good news. "I got a new job."

"Does that mean you'll stop leaving at night?" Emily asks, bluntly.

You chuckle and smile, "Yes. And I will be home every Tuesday and Thursday with you plus the weekends."

"What is it?" Brittany asks, but something about the look in her eyes makes you think she knows.

You tilt your head and smile softly with an accusatory look. "You knew, didn't you?"

"Well," Brittany pretends to contemplate, and you think it's cute. "Quinn told me about it before she asked you. She wanted to make sure that you wouldn't be offended or something."

You let out a deep sigh. Being you, you're still a little skeptical about the money thing until you see some kind of contract. You're still going to the club tonight, and you're not going to quit until all the papers are signed.

But you still have a good feeling about this. You feel like you're moving in the right direction. You're moving in the right direction with your family.

Brittany leans over and kisses your cheek, "Congratulations, baby."

Quinn is more than pleased to babysit for you when you goto the publishing office. On the twenty-seventh floor, it is an intimidating place to walk into without knowing where you are going.

The receptionist smiles at you with a porcelain smile. "Good morning. Welcome to Asta Publishing. How can I help you?"

"I'm supposed to meet with Ivan Andric," you tell her confidently. It's all feigned confidence, but that's not an issue right now.

The receptionist glances down at the calendar on the computer screen in front of her. She stands, "If you'll follow me."

The main part of the office is divided into cubicles where there are people working away without giving you a second look. You're led to a corner office where the receptionist knocks on the door and opens it.

Inside, you find that two entire walls are glass, overlooking downtown Manhattan. A small man is sitting behind a desk at the far end of the rectangular room. His desk is intricately carved, dark wood with a glass top. A computer is the only thing on it. The two walls that aren't glass are covered by bookshelves, all overflowing with books.

He smiles kindly at you and stands. "You must be Ms. Lopez."

You nod to him and shake his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

He gestures for you to sit down in one of the two leather chairs in front of his desk. You sink into the chair and cross one leg over the other, oozing the kind of shallow self-confidence that you learned in high school. He sits back in his chair. "You come highly recommended, and I have no qualms about hiring you. If Lucy-erm, Quinn trusts you, so do I." He reaches behind his desk and opens the drawer. He extracts a lengthy contract and slides it across the table to you. "You're more that welcome to take your time reading it. I have some things to attend to, so you can use my office to look it over."

You nod, "Thank you. So much."

With one last, quick smile he walks out of the office.

You read over the papers for about ten minutes. You've changed a few things in it, but not huge things. Then you sign it. It's official. You have a job that doesn't involve taking your clothes off.

You find yourself drawn to the windows. At first, it's a little dizzying standing that close to the window. But as you stand, you get used to it. Overlooking the lines of yellow taxis and buildings that sprawl out before abruptly ending at the river.

"The view is great, but I'm an editor," Mr. Andric says, slightly startling you. You didn't hear him come in, "I'd rather have a few more bookshelves than these windows."

You smooth out your shirt and walk to the desk, sliding the contract back over to him as he sits down behind his desk. "I hope you don't mind. I changed a few things."

He chuckles and scans over the contract. "You wouldn't be a good copy editor if you didn't." He stands and extends his hand to you, "Welcome to the company."


	21. Chapter 21

"May I ask who is calling?"

"Santana," you state, standing in the middle of your bare living room. Your bare feet are cold on the wooden floor, but you're not concerned with that right this second.

"Santana who?" the man asks on the other end of the line.

You huff in frustration, "Santana. Just say Santana. How many Santanas can she know?"

You can hear him talking to someone with the phone away from her ear. It's a loud enough whisper for you to hear the person you're actually trying to reach ask who it is. The man tells her your name and soon you're eagerly greeted. "Santana! Long time no see."

"You better not be sleeping with that guy who answered your phone," you almost feel bad threatening her right off of the bat. But not really. This is her personal number. Random guys should not be answering it.

"Carter?" she asks like she's caught off balance, "Of course not. I didn't recognize this number and I have acquired a rather avid stalker." She seems elated about it and continues rambling, "Although it seems to be just Jacob Ben Israel, however the acquisition of a stalker makes me feel like I've made it-"

You rub the bridge of your nose and interrupt her, "I didn't call to talk about creepers with you Berry. I called to talk about Quinn."

"Is she okay?" the screech nearly deafens you in one ear. "Did she slip by the pool? I told her I didn't like her swimming while I was gon- while she was alone."

You sigh, "She told me okay? And she's fine. Physically anyway."

"Oh," Rachel's voice becomes quiet, "What would you like to discuss? Are you going to blackmail me?"

"How much do you actually talk to Quinn?" you ask her. It's more of a demand. You've been hanging out with Quinn for a while now and if Rachel doesn't know how close you and Quinn are now, they definitely don't communicate enough.

Rachel sighs and quietly answers, "Now isn't a great time."

"When is?" you ask, "Because we're having this talk if I have to call Jacob and ask him where you are and then track your ass down."

"I'll call you on my lunch break," she sounds defeated. You could care less. You're more pissed than you were before you actually got to talk to her.

"When if your lunch break and where are you?"

"I'm in Bridgeport for a photo shoot," she sighs, "I get off for lunch in a couple hours."

You look at the watch on your wrist and tell her that you'll meet her there.

You arrive a little early to the café that Rachel told you she'd meet you at. You did speed a little bit (or a lot) but you seethed all the way there and didn't notice how fast you were going.

It's a tiny café. Probably the most inconspicuous place in town. You feel like she thinks you're going to make a scene. You damn sure are.

When the bell rings on the front door of the café, you nearly crack up laughing when you see Rachel. She has a scarf over her head and oversized sunglasses. A tan trench coat was tied tightly around her waist. She looks like a movie star from decades back, getting ready for a drive in the country.

"Are you sure you don't need a ski mask too?" you ask her as she walks right past you to the counter.

She jumps a few inches off of the ground, her boots making a soft noise as they meet the creaky wooden floor again. She slowly turns on her heel toward you. Even though her eye are hidden, you know she's disappointed. "You're early."

"Have a seat Berry." You gesture to the chair across the table from you.

She removed her sunglasses and yanks the scarf off of her head. Her tone is less than pleasant. "May I get some coffee first?"

You shrug dismissively. She turns back to the counter and orders. You just sit and wait, formulating what you have to say. Organizing the demands and questions until you find the most effective format.

She finally sits down across from you with a cup of coffee balanced precariously on a porcelain saucer. She sets it down on the table and lets out a deep sigh. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"I want to talk about Quinn," you state, "And how you're leaving her alone all the time and how you're hiding her. How come you don't bring her places with you? She's a writer. She can do that anywhere."

"My publicist doesn't think…" she trails off when you scoff at her. She narrows her eyes at you, "You don't understand."

"Please make me understand," you lean back in your chair. It quietly creaks in the tiny café against the old wooden planks of the floor.

She sits there quietly for a few minutes, staring at her coffee. Her face flashes though a myriad of emotions before she speaks. "I know the situation isn't ideal."

You shake your head, "It's way less than ideal. She misses you."

"I miss her too," Rachel says quietly, "I'm just…contractually obligated to be all of these places and socialize with certain people. I want nothing more than to steal her away for a week where I could wake up to her furiously writing on her laptop and…."

You hold your hand up, "I don't need details." You tap your nails against your glass. "She's just so sad."

"Really?" Tears appear in Rachel's eyes.

You try to quash the feeling creeping up the back of your throat. The one that makes you want to feel sorry for Rachel too. She has the same look in her face that Quinn does. It stabs you in the heart. You just nod in reply to her question.

She sniffles and runs the back of her finger under her eyes, stopping a tear before the treks down her face. She shakes her head, "I never wanted to make her sad. I love her. So much."

"She's lonely," you add quietly. You didn't mean for it to hurt Rachel. You said it because she needed to know.

Rachel bites her lip and bows her head so that her hair falls in a thick veil around her face. "I don't…" She raises her head and you can see how hard she's fighting the tears. Her eyes are red and glassy. She takes a deep breath and nods, "I don't know what to do." She pulled her phone out of her purse and looked at the screen. Then she went to her contact list and stared.

"Look I didn't come up here to guilt you," you say and then pause, "Well yeah I did. I just want her to be happy."

"As do I," Rachel adds so quietly you almost don't hear it. Her eyes are still on her phone. "Do you think she'd want to come up here? Spend the night before I have to fly to Paris?"

You don't like that she's leaving, but you know that Quinn would love nothing more than to be with Rachel. You nod, "She'd be ecstatic."

A smile breaks out onto Rachel's face. She taps her phone once and puts the phone to her ear. Her smile fades and morphs into a frown. "Mike?….Um yes. Is she busy?…oh she's in the shower?" You can see an all to familiar jealousy wash over Rachel's face as the pitch of her voice escalates. Her eyes meet yours and she covers the receiver of her phone, "Mike is taking the phone to Quinn who is in the _shower_."

You know she's thinking exactly what you would think if some guy was taking the phone to Brittany in the shower and you were never home. You can't say you blame her, but you're sure she's wrong. Pretty sure.

You want to know what's going on so you move your chair to the other side of the table and lean in close to Rachel. She leans close to you and turns the phone slightly so that you can hear. You distinctly hear the sound of the shower running. Mike tells Quinn that it's Rachel and almost immediately Quinn says, "Hey babe. How's the photo shoot going?"

"Great," Rachel said in a cheery tone that isn't really believable, "Almost done."

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks.

"Why is Mike at our house?" Rachel questions.

You hear the shower cut off, "Oh, he's not. I'm at his apartment."

"Taking a shower?" Rachel continues asking the questions you're thinking.

"Yeah," Quinn answers. You can tell she's starting to get suspicious about Rachel's suspicions. "We just got back from the rock gym ad I needed to shower before I pick up Emily. Are you sure you're okay?"

Rachel's eyes widen, "Who's Emily? Is she-"

"She's my daughter," you tell Rachel before she says something you'll have to hit her for.

"You have daughter?" Rachel blinks.

You hear Quinn ask, "Santana?"

"Yeah," you sigh. You didn't really want Quinn to know about this little trip.

"What's going on?" Quinn asks. You can feel her frown from over the phone line.

Rachel looks at you with a look that practically demands that you explain. So you take a deep breath, "I came to talk to Rachel. It's not a big deal."

"What were you talking about?" she asks back and by her tone you can tell that she already knows.

"You," Rachel answers. She sounds defeated. When you glance at her, you can see the defeat in her eyes.

Quinn's voice is still hard and guarded, "Why were you asking me all those questions?"

Rachel bows her head, "I'm sorry I assumed. I just…I get so scared that while I'm gone someone is going to take you away from me. Someone who is going to be there."

You pull away from the phone and scoot your chair a little ways from Rachel. You feel like this is a conversation they should be having alone. The tension in your body is unreal. You feel like their relationship is dangling off of a tiny precipice and you may have just kicked it off just as you were trying to drag it to more solid ground. Now all you can do is watch it and see if it's going to fall into the darkness or not.

You internally vow to remember to communicate with Brittany. You think that your chances with her have run out and you need to not fuck this last one up. You need to tell her everything. So you pick up your phone off of the table and text her. _I love you so much. _

Then you turn to Rachel who is staring blankly at the table, trying desperately to blink away tears. She quietly murmurs, "I love you too. I'm so sorry that I even for a second thought you were cheating on me…." She nods as Quinn talks and bites her lip. She takes a deep breath and chuckles despite the tears in her eyes. "Yeah, I was actually calling to ask if you wanted to drive up here and spend the night with me before I leave….yeah…I don't care. I need to see you….alright. Text me and let me know…I love you too…bye Quinn."

She hangs up and runs a hand through her hair. She deeply sighs and shakes her head. "I'm glad you came Santana."

That surprises you. You were sure that you were about to receive the opposite reaction. So you tilt your head to the side and wait for her to explain.

"Regardless of the drama that just unfolded, I realized that I'm missing out on so much," she looks up at you. "I didn't even know who Emily was. I didn't know that Quinn likes to go to the rock gym." She rubs her cheek and adds, "I'm going to call my agent, but first I'd like to catch up with you." She gives you a smile and seems more relaxed, "Tell me about Emily."

You both order a couple of sandwiches and you fill her in on your life since you left Lima. She does the same. She 'aww's when you tell her how Brittany asked you out repeatedly even though you said no repeatedly. You smile when she reenacts the first time she got a call back.

When you get up to leave, she says, "I'm going to hug you now, okay?"

You nod and let her. You even hug her back a little. Just a little.

As you walk to your car, you glance down at your phone in your hand. You see a text message awaiting you. It's from Brittany. She replied to your text with: _I love you more._

You smile at your phone and slide into her car. You can't really come up with a response to that do you just leave it at that.

Quinn calls you when you're half an hour away from Manhattan. She asks if it's okay for Emily to stay with Mike until you pick her up. You tell her that it's okay with you and ask if Emily's okay with it. You hear Quinn ask Emily who readily agrees and says that she and Mike are playing a dancing game. You laugh as Quinn tells you she's a natural.

Then Quinn thanks you for going to talk to Rachel. She insists that you two have lunch tomorrow and thanks you again before hanging up to finish packing for her overnight trip.

You stop by Brittany's work on the way to pick up Emily from Mike's. She looks surprised when you walk into her dressing room with a bouquet of flowers from the vendor down the street. The other dancers coo as she jumps onto your arms, crushing the flowers between you.

You don't tell her that you're trying to never take her for granted or that you never want her to forget how special she is to you. You don't want to end up like Quinn and Rachel with only overnights in a hotel and long-distance phone calls to each other. You'd miss her smile too much.

Instead you just tell her that you love her. Then you steal a kiss and leave.

When you pick up Emily, she and Mike are in the middle of a rousing round of Just Dance. So you sit on his pristine couch and watch them finish. Emily wins because Mike was freestyling to the music instead of doing the moves on the screen.

You thank him as you and Emily leave. He smiles and tells you that it was a pleasure - that he'll baby-sit anytime.

"Did you have fun with Mike?" you ask Emily though the rearview mirror as you drive home.

Emily nods, "He dances like mommy."

You smile and nod. "They're awesome dancers huh?"

"Yeah," Emily nods again, the hair that has escaped from her braid bouncing. "Can we have macaroni for dinner?"

"Sure," you reply and try to remember if you have any or you need to stop at the store.

After a short stop at the bodega down the street, you and Emily walk into your apartment. Well you walk. She fell asleep in the car. You're surprised to find Brittany sitting at the table when you walk in. You mouth a quick 'hi' before taking Emily to her room.

When you return, you see that Brittany put the flowers that you gave her in a vase and placed them on the kitchen counter. You smile at her as she stands from her chair. She strides over to you and a throws her arms around you.

"Are you okay?" you ask her, worried about her mood. She didn't smile when she placed her arms around you.

She nods and pulls away, "Are you?"

You raise an eyebrow and nod.

"Oh," she takes a deep breath, "I thought that something might have happened to Abuelo or something with the flowers and all. When your uncle got sick in high school, you bought me a teddy bear and told me you loved me a lot."

You smile and kiss her. "I'm fine. Abuelo's fine...as far as I know. I just…I talked to Rachel today."

"Really?" Brittany asks.

You nod and take her hand, pulling her into the bedroom. You both sit on the end of the bed and pat the bed next to you. When Brittany sits down, you explain everything that happened this afternoon. She looks wildly empathetic and holds your hand through the whole thing.

When the story is done, she watches you, knowing that you have more to day. "I just…don't want that. For us. I love you."

"Oh baby, that's not us," she smiles at you. "We're different."

"But you could go on tour," you tell her helplessly.

She shakes her head, "I won't. We have Emily and I just found you again. I'm not leaving." With a light smile, she kisses your lips, leaning into you. "I love you." Her hands move to your hips and you dip farther down into the mattress.

"I love you too," you mutter against her lips. She gives you one last peck before moving her lips to your neck. Your hand finds its way into her hair and your eyes flutter shut.

Just when you start to fall back onto the bed with Brittany on top of you, you hear the soft padding of feet to your room. You and Brittany both look up when Emily steps in, looking still half asleep. She rubs her eyes and mumbles, "Macaroni."

You smile at her, "I'll make it in a minute."

She nods and slowly turns before shuffling out of the room. You smile at Brittany who is grinning at you. "You're a great mom San."

"You are too," you say back to her and kiss her. "I'm going to call Abuelo really quick before I start dinner."

"I'll make dinner," Brittany kisses your neck one last time before pushing off of the bed, "Tell Abuelo I said hi."

She walks out of the room and you pull your phone out of your pocket, looking for his phone number. You fall all the way back on the bed as you press the green call button, and listening for the dial tone.

Your Abuelo doesn't answer his phone, but this outgoing voicemail message makes you smile. You tell his voicemail that you were just calling to check on him. You tell him that you miss him and you love him. You ask him to call you back and then you hang up.

You walk into the kitchen to find Emily directing the making of the macaroni from a perch on the counter a safe distance away from the stove. Brittany smiles at you when you walk up and slips her arm around your waist, pulling you to her as she stirs with her free hand.

You rest your head on her shoulder and watch the water and noodles swirl in the pot. "I miss Abuelo."

"Did you ask him to come visit?" she asks. You can feel her fingers slowly stroking your hip where they rest.

"I love Abuelo!" Emily calls making you and Brittany laugh, "We can we see him again?"

You tell Emily that you can soon and address Brittany. "He didn't answer," you sigh, "And now I'm all crazy worried about him."

"I'm sure he's fine," she tells you, carefully taking the spoon out of the pot and tapping it against the side of the pot to get ride of excess water before setting in on the stove.

You pick your head up, "But you _know_ him." You glance at Emily and lower your voice, "You know he doesn't remember how old he is sometimes."

"Why don't you call your dad and see if he's seen him?" Brittany turns toward you and links her hands together at the small of your back. Your arms are crossed, but she still holding you close.

You finally drop your arms and lean into her, closing your eyes as your head falls against her chest. "You know usually I'd rather cut off my own ear than call my parents, but I may have to. I'll wait a few hours just in case he's bowling or something and couldn't hear his phone."

She rubs your back and you feel so much better just because she's holding you. "That's a good idea." She brushes the hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. "It would be a bad idea to cut off your ear. Your ears are cute."

You giggle and shake your head against her. You don't know how she does it, but you're sure that he's just out with his friends now.

"Oh no!" Emily yells.

You and Brittany immediately pivot around and see that the pot is over flowing. You quickly turn down the heat while Brittany pushes the pot back to the back burner.

She looks at you and you look back at her and you both crack up laughing.

Eventually you give up making dinner (even such a simple dinner) and order pizza. You all crowd in your bed to watch The Little Mermaid on your laptop as you chow down. You watch the two blondes coo and smile and tear up watching the movie and it make you love them even more. You love your family more than you can really express.


	22. Chapter 22

After dinner you do the dishes and keep looking at your phone. You wonder when Abuelo's going to call you back. You set your phone next to the sink so you'll know the second something happens. But nothing does when you finish the dishes.

You decide to go check on Brittany and Emily and leave your phone on the counter. Inside Emily's room, the little girl's eyes are drooping as Brittany reads her, her favorite book. You decided to leave them to it so you walk back into the kitchen, pick up your phone and make your way to the bedroom.

You figure that at this point you're going to have to give in and call your parents. You decide that your mom is your best bet because ever since the whole trip to Lima, your dad's been standoffish. If you do call and he answers, he's quick to hand off the call to your mom.

When your mom answers, you skip the majority of the pleasantries and immediately ask if she's seen Abuelo. She tells you that she saw him a couple hours ago and he told her that he was going on a roadtrip.

You're immensely relieved. You relax your muscles as you lay back on the bed. Of course your muscles tensed right back up when your mom tells you that she wants to come visit.

"Visit… me?" you ask.

Your mom laughs. "Yes you, and Emily. And Brittany."

"Oh, okay," you don't think it's fair to keep Emily from her just because your dad is being distant. "When do you think you'll come?"

"I don't know. When is Emily's next dance recital? I'd love to see it," she tells you.

You frown. You don't actually know. You start to get up to ask Brittany, but she steps into the room. "Hey, when is Emily's next recital?"

"Um," Brittany peels off her shirt and looks in the closet for a fresh one. "Friday at six."

"This Friday?" you ask her, not realizing that your mom can hear you as well.

"Oh this Friday?" you mom asks, "Perfect. I don't know if your father can make it, but I will definitely be there."

Your eyes get wide. "You're coming this Friday?"

"Yes," you mom says happily. "I'll call you later and let you know when I'll arrive. Goodbye Santana. I love you. Tell Brittany I said hi." Then she hangs up.

You groan and roll onto Brittany's side of the bed. You can feel her crawl onto the bed behind you and wrap her arms around you. "What's wrong?"

"My mom is coming on Friday," You sigh.

She kisses your shoulder and rests her head on it. "It'll be okay. Emily would love to see her."

"At least my dad's not coming," you lean back into her, feeling safer in her arms.

Your mom calls you the next day telling you that her flight will arrive Thursday morning. She doesn't want you to bother picking her up at the airport. She wants the experience of taking a cab in New York. You give her your address and as soon as you hang up, you start frantically cleaning the apartment.

"What is she doing?" you hear Emily whisper from where she and Brittany are sitting on the kitchen counter watching you clean.

"She panicking," Brittany smiles and pops a slice of apple in her mouth.

You roll your eyes, "I'm glad you're enjoying this." You grab the broom from its place next to the refrigerator.

"Are you going to clean my room?" Emily asks, hopefully.

You look at her and quirk your eyebrow in a way that means _You wish._ She giggles and you go back to cleaning.

Brittany hops off of the counter and helps Emily down. "I left my sweater at the studio, do you want to come?"

"Yes!" Emily says happily.

Brittany kisses your cheek and tells you to try to relax while they're out. You think about staying and cleaning, but you decide against it. Your girls are both home at the same time and you want to spend time with them.

You take Emily the studio she practices in while Brittany goes to her dressing room. Emily immediately starts dancing her routine a serious look on her face.

"Aren't you supposed to smile when you dance?" you ask her from the doorway, where you're leaning on the frame.

She gives you a stern look. "This is not a smiling dance. It's serious."

You chuckle, "Oh, excuse me."

She goes back to dancing while you watch her with a goofy grin on your face. You bet she's the best dancer her age in the city. You bet she's the best dancer within three years of her age. The little girl can control her actions better than most people you know.

You feel a chin rest on your shoulder and a Brittany's perfume encase you. "She's good huh?" you ask.

"She's the lead dancer in the recital," Brittany tells you.

"How many people can we bring to the recital?" you ask. You suddenly feel like everyone you've ever met should know that you have the most talented daughter in the whole world.

"However many you feel like paying for," Brittany says. "I'll be backstage though. I'm helping with the younger dancers."

You're a little disappointed that she won't be sitting next to you, cooing over Emily with you, but you'll have your mom and as many people as you can coax into coming with you.

"Ms. Pierce?" a male voice down the hall asks.

You both look in the direction of a voice. There's a young man with a bag over his. He's barefooted, in cargo shorts and a tight v-neck. Brittany smiles at him, "Hey Jared. What are you doing here?"

"I just came by to practice a little," he grins, "You keep kicking my ass in class."

You can't imagine Brittany ever kicking anyone's ass, but it is definitely something you'd pay to see.

"You're getting better," Brittany states. Then she looks to you. "This is my girlfriend Santana. San, this is Jared."

You nod to him and he nods back, "I've seen you around. It's nice to meet you."

You don't remember ever seeing him, but you tell him that it's nice to meet him too.

When he walks off, you look back into the studio where Emily is still twirling away. You don't want her to have to leave. You feel Brittany's hand on your stomach, holding you from behind. "Does anyone need this room today?"

You can feel her shake her head. She kisses your cheek. "Do you need to go home and clean?"

It takes you a moment to realize that Brittany took you asking if someone needed the room as you looking for a reason to leave. You could go home and clean…. Or you could stay here and watch Emily and maybe Brittany in their element.

So you take Brittany's hand that's on your stomach and pull her inside the room. Twenty minutes later, you have some smoothies that you went to get a few minutes earlier and there's music in the room. You're sitting in the back corner of the room, watching Brittany stretch and doing a few balance exercises. It only took Emily a few minutes of emulating Brittany to realize that what her mom was doing was way over her head. So she's back to rehearsing her own routine.

You send a mass text to your short list of people that you want to invite to Emily's recital. Your phone vibrates in your lap as you're watching Brittany dance to whatever song is playing. You reluctantly look away from her to check your phone.

It's a text from Mike. _Count me in! I wouldn't miss my little dance partner's recital. _

You smile and look at your little girl. You doubt she'll ever meet anyone she couldn't charm immediately.

A few minutes later, you get another text. It's Quinn this time. _I'll be there. Can I bring Rachel?_

You didn't bother inviting Rachel because you were sure she would be busy, but you have no problem with her coming. You tell Quinn who immediately replies that they'll both be there and they want to take everyone out to dinner afterward.

You want to check with Brittany to make sure that she doesn't have anything going on after the recital, but she looks so deep into her dance that you don't want to disturb her. You tell Quinn that you'd love to go to dinner with them. Worse case scenario, you have to cancel.

You spend the rest of the afternoon watching them dance to their hearts content. Then you all go home. You make dinner because Brittany and Emily both pass out the second they lay down on your bed. You don't mind cooking for them ever, but you especially don't mind after they gave you an all day dance performance.

You're sitting on the floor of your living room on Thursday when there's a knock on your door. You check your phone and find that it's a little early for your mom to be arriving so you leave the chain on the door when you answer the door.

"I wish you didn't live somewhere, where you need a chain like that mija."

You quickly shut the door, unlatch the chair and throw open the door. Your Abuelo wraps you in a bear hug. "What are you doing here Abuelo?"

"Like I would miss Emily's recital," he says pulling back with a smile. "I was just in DC sightseeing so I swung over."

"I'm glad you're here," you smile at him. "Emily and Brittany are at the studio though."

"Can't I come see you?" he asks, putting his arm around you.

You both walk in together and you kick the door closed behind you. He looks around the main room and asks, "Where's your couch?"

"We don't have one," you explain. "Emily and Brittany dance so much that we just never got around to buying on."

He rubs his chin, "I guess that means no TV huh?"

You chuckle, "Nope, no TV."

"Hmm," he looks around again. "It's a good thing I'm staying a in a hotel then." He puts his arm back around you again. "I'm proud of you mija. This a good place."

"Thanks Abuelo," you smile onto him.

"What were you doing?" he asks, seeing you box of book copies on the table.

You walk over to the table and start putting the books back into the box. "I was just working."

He stands next to you and picks up. It's the latest book by Lucy Berry. You've marked all over it and there are sticky notes stuck between the pages. "What is it that you do?"

"I'm a copy editor," you tell him. You're nervous. You want him to approve. He hasn't known your profession since you left Lima.

He smiles and hugs you. "That's great mija. I'm proud of you. That's a great job." He looks a book over. "This is a good company." He hands you Quinn's book. "I love this author."

"Really?" you ask. You have to admit that Quinn does know how to tell a story so it shouldn't really surprise you.

He nods, "Oh yeah. I was stuck in the airport in Phoenix so I bought the first book I saw. Read it cover to cover before my plane arrived."

You chuckle, "What would you say if I told you that I know the author?"

"Get out," he smiles at you.

"She'll be at Emily's recital," you place Quinn's book back into the box and pick up the box. "I'll introduce you."

Abuelo insists on taking you out to lunch at your favorite restaurant, which happens to be across the street from the dance studio so Brittany joins you. She and Abuelo chatter away and laughing all through lunch. You don't want to leave her, but she has some work to do before she comes home. She tells you that she'll pick up Emily and kisses you goodbye.

"Aye mija," Abuelo says as Brittany trots across the street. "You two are together?"

You nod with what only can be described as a dreamy smile. "Yeah."

He laughs and puts his hand on your shoulder. "That makes me so happy."

"Really?"

He nods as you both start walking back to your apartment. "You were always so happy with her. Even when you were trying not to be with her, you always lit up when she walked into a room."

You nod. You love that he loves Brittany and Emily. You don't know what you'd do if he didn't.

Abuelo insists on you getting back to work for a little while, so he sits at your computer and reads news stories or whatever he does.

When there's a knock on the door, you start to put your book down. Abuelo tells you that he'll get it so you keep reading. Of course you stop when Abuelo says, "Hey Teresa!"

You get up and greet your mother. Then you watch her while she looks around your apartment. "You don't have a couch."

"No TV either," Abuelo states.

You have no idea what it is with these people and your lack of living room furniture. You just stand there and wait.

Luckily, Brittany and Emily get home just in time a tense awkwardness sets in. Abuelo tells everyone that he'll make dinner. After you eat, your mother and Brittany do the dishes together, drinking wine and laughing together.

Emily decides to go to bed around nine, which is good because she has a big day tomorrow. Your mom volunteers to put her to bed. You and Brittany listen to Abuelo's road trip adventures until your mom walks back out of Emily's room.

"She asked me to check in the closet for The Thriller," your mom quirks an eyebrow at you.

You and Brittany start laughing. Brittany explains to your mom and Abuelo what happened and how you're completely to blame for that. You thank her for her support and she kisses your cheek, resting her arm on the back of your chair.

It doesn't take long for them to leave. It's getting late and they both traveled a long way to be here. You find a peace wash over you as Brittany settles down next to you in bed. "I'm excited for tomorrow." You hear her in the dark just as you're about to drift off.

"Me too," you murmur, scooting farther into her. She's so warm and soft and perfect to cuddle with.

She kisses your forehead. "Goodnight Santana."

You don't even get a chance to answer, because you've already been lost to sleep.

And when you wake up, you find an entirely different blonde in your bed than the one that fell asleep with you last night.

Emily's mouth is slightly open and her hair is sticking up everywhere. You look around for any sign of Brittany. You can hear moving around in the kitchen, but it's definitely not Brittany cooking. You could smell your mom's French toast.

You pit stop by the bathroom before exiting your room, finding your mom in the kitchen with Brittany. Brittany is nibbling on a strawberry and staring intently at the frying pan your mom is manning. She nods when your mom says something and is absorbing every little thing your mom tells her.

"Santana!" Abuelo says from his place at the table. He's drinking coffee and reading the paper just like you remember from when you were little.

You greet him in Spanish. "_Good morning Abuelo._" You walk over to him and hug him.

He looked up at your with his glasses on. "_Good morning mija. So glad you finally decided to join us._"

You glance at the clock and find that it's almost ten. "_I didn't know it was so late. No one woke me up._"

He chuckles, "_I guess that's what happens when you get dependent on a woman to wake you up."_

You roll your eyes, but it's kinda true. You glance over at Brittany and find her looking at you. She blows you a kiss and you blush like you would have in high school. You smile bashfully at her and she giggles.

Finally you walk over to her and take her hand. "Good morning."

She kisses your cheek, "Good morning."

"Mija, I can't believe that you never made French toast for Brittany," your mom says, flipping one piece in the pan. "She goes to work everyday so the least you could do is make her breakfast in the morning."

Your jaw drops. You weren't expecting that.

"Oh, it's fine," Brittany shakes her head, "Santana works too. Sometimes really late at night. She deserves to sleep." She gives you a hopeful smile.

Your mom still gives you the _ojo_. You just look away and glance at Abuelo who is laughing heartily across the room. You roll your eyes. "I will try to wake up more often and make Britt breakfast okay?"

Brittany looks behind your mom at you and shakes her head. You usually wake up three times during the week and make her and Emily breakfast. It's usual cereal or a bagel or something easy like that. Maybe you can start making a real breakfast.

You just link your pinkie with Brittany's and pour some coffee.

After Emily wakes up, you all eat breakfast together. Emily wants to take Abuelo and your mom to the new fossil exhibit at the children's museum. So you all head out, spending a few hours at the museum. But soon Emily and Brittany have to go get ready. You, Abuelo, and your mom have a while before you have to leave so you go back to your apartment to wait for the other guests.

"Do we have to buy tickets?" Abuelo asks, "Maybe we should leave early."

"I already bought them," you tell him as you mentally go through your closet to try to figure out what to wear. "They're at will-call."

"I can't let you pay for me," your mom injects.

You shrug, "She's my kid. I want you guys to see her dance. She's like a little Brittany. You don't have to pay for anything."

Your mom gets all misty eyed like she has been doing, watching you all day with Emily. You're getting weirded out.

You look to your Abuelo who is wearing a weird proud look. Luckily, you don't have to be alone with these crazy people anymore because someone knocks on the door. You rush away from your family and open the door.

Quinn is standing there, flanked by Rachel and Mike. When you hug Quinn you whisper, "These people are crazy."

She laughs and walks in greeting your mom and your Abuelo. You smile at Rachel. She hugs you and then let's Mike have his turn. You can feel the tension between Mike and Rachel, but tonight is about Emily. You'll address it later.

And you make sure you're all in your seats twenty minutes before everyone else. Brittany comes out and talks to everyone for a few minutes. She tells you that Emily's excited and has walked around telling everyone else that they're going to do great. You're sitting between your mom and Quinn when the lights go down.

Your mom takes your hand the second Emily steps onto the stage. She's even more amazing that you imagined. She owns the stage and reminds you so much of Brittany. Your mom takes your hand. You've never really felt close to your mom, but here in the dark of the theatre, watching your daughter dance, you feel connected to her.

When the recital is over, you're the first one on your feet, clapping your heart out. The kids come out for a bow and are released to their parents. Emily runs right to you, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Was I good?"

"You were the best," you pick her up and hug her. "You dance just like your mommy."

"Really?" Emily looks at you, excited. She always looks up to her mom.

You nod. "Exactly like her." You set Emily down so she can say hi to Abuelo and your mom. Then she hugs Mike who tells her exactly what moves she did that he loved.

Quinn and Rachel walk up behind Mike. You didn't even know that they were gone, but you see why they left. Rachel's holding flowers.

The second Emily sees Quinn, she jumps into her arms. "Quinn! Did you see me dance?"

Quinn kneels down. "I saw the whole thing. You're amazing sweetheart."

You feel Brittany wrap her arms around you from behind while you watch Emily greet your friends.

Finally, Emily looks questioningly up at Rachel who is watching Quinn and your daughter affectionately.

"You're a natural performer," Rachel says, tentatively. It's like she scared of Emily as she carefully hands the little girl the flowers.

Emily, of course, beams, "Thanks. I'm Emily."

"I'm Rachel," She kneels down to Emily's level and smiles back. "You're the best little dancer I've ever seen."

"Thanks!" Emily smiles even wider. "Do you see a lot of little dancers?"

Rachel chuckles, "Actually I do. I'm a performer too."

Emily's blue eyes grow wide, "Where do you work?"

"On Broadway," Rachel states. You can see the pride in her eyes and when you glance at Quinn you see pride mixed with a deep adoration for the woman talking to your daughter.

Any other six year old wouldn't have a clue what she was talking about, but Emily is awed by the mention of Broadway. "My mommy is going to dance on Broadway soon. Maybe you can dance together."

"Your mommy is a much better dancer than me," Rachel throws a gleeful glance at Brittany before adding to Emily, "But I would be happy to sing while she dances. Did they ever tell you about how we all used to sing together? Santana is one of the best singers ever. Do you know what goosebumps are?" When Emily nods, she goes on. "When we were all in high school together, Santana's singing gave me goosebumps."

Emily's wide eyes look at you and you grin back. You can't help, but be flattered by that look. Then she moves back to Rachel.

The brunette smiles. "And Quinn? When she sings you can't help, but smile." She throws an affectionate look back at her girlfriend who is blushing.

"I know!" Emily emphatically explains to Rachel, "When I spend the night at her house she sings to me. You should see her house! It's huge!"

You can see Rachel swallow hard and she looks down at the stage for the briefest moment. You feel like you need to say something, but Quinn breaks in before you can. "Hey Emily, do you want to see the stage where Rachel sings?"

"Yes!" Emily bounds over to Quinn and wraps her waist in a hug. "Let's go!"

"Do you want to swing by on the way to dinner?" Quinn asks you and Brittany.

You shrug. Brittany nods. "Sounds fun."

"A real Broadway stage?" you mom asks.

Rachel beams and takes to explaining the grand tour that she's going to take everyone on.

You quirk an eyebrow at Quinn who hooks her arm around yours as you all start to leave the theatre. "C'mon. It'll be good for Emily to see her future place of work."

She's got your there. You know Brittany's behind you and you hold your hand out without looking back. She takes your hand, your fingers meshing together. You turn to Brittany and she smiles at you, stealing a quick kiss.

Emily calls her so she trots to catch up to her and Rachel. You watch as they all walk through the exit and lead the charge toward Broadway.


	23. Chapter 23

After an hour at Rachel's theatre, you all gather at a nice restaurant uptown. Everyone has taken to chatting amongst themselves while you're trying to coax Emily into tell you what she wants to eat.

"You should get the Brussels sprouts," Abuelo says from across the table.

"Ew! No!" Emily scrunches up her nose, "I want a grilled cheese."

You still marvel at how much you have to learn about parenting. You've been trying for five minutes and Abuelo says one sentence and bam, he has an answer.

"So Quinn," your mom starts and waits for the blonde's attention before continuing, "How have you been? I haven't seen you since your senior year of high school?"

Quinn smiles brilliantly and glances at you before looking back at your mom. You can tell that she just took Rachel's hand under the table. "I've been fantastic."

Your mother smiles warmly at her, "That's good. What do you do for work?"

Quinn opens her mouth, but Rachel interjects proudly, "She's a writer."

"No way," Abuelo looks from you to Quinn and back, "That's her?"

You nod and tell him in Spanish that he's not allowed to tell anyone. He pauses and asks about your mom. You nod once again, but tell her too that she can't tell anyone. She looks bewildered before Abuelo adds to your mom, "She wrote that book I was telling you about."

Your mom looks wildly impressed and turns to Quinn, "Lucy Berry?"

Quinn blushes and looks across the table at you. You just shrug, "They won't tell."

She finally nods, "Mhmm. Which book did you read?"

"The latest one," your mother states.

Abuelo asks, "You read it?"

Your mother nods, "Of course I did. After you told me about it, how was I supposed to not read it." She looked over at Quinn, "You're amazing at what you do."

Abuelo nods. "I couldn't stop reading."

"Thank you," Quinn says bashfully, her blush growing deeper. You smile at all this flattery. You don't think that she's used to it, especially about something other than her looks.

"You capture the loneliness your characters feel beautifully," your mother comments, "The isolation they feel….it's brilliant."

"It's amazing how you paint them to feel so alone," Abuelo states, moving back so that the waiter can put down his plate.

At that your eyes shoot to Rachel whose jaw is visibly clenching. Quinn's smile has turned from bashful to pained.

You try to diffuse the situation by changing the subject, "Oh mom that looks great. What did you get?"

Her answer is interrupted by Rachel abruptly standing. She tosses her napkin onto her chair and when she sees everyone looking, she fumbles with, "I- e-excuse me." With that, she walked off.

"Um," Quinn stood at well, "She's just really tired. She just got off of a plane from Paris right before the recital." She mumbled a rushed 'excuse me' and walked off after her.

"Did I say something?" Abuelo asks you.

You look over at Emily who is paying close attention because her favorite adult friend just ran after her girlfriend. So you decide to speak in Spanish so she won't understand.

"_Quinn is…You got that Quinn and Rachel are together right?"_ you ask them. They both nod so you move on, "_They live in a huge house, the one where we had Emily's birthday, but Rachel's never home. She's always off working and she won't take Quinn with her because her publicist thinks it would be bad publicity or something. So Quinn is lonely. And lately Rachel is realizing just how lonely and isolated._" You hope that using their own words will help them realize what they've done.

Your mother presses her hand to her chest, "I didn't realize."

You can feel Mike looking at you so you turn to him. It's a look of warning. You roll your eyes, "Chill out Chang. I was nice. Quinn is my friend."

"She's my friend too," he sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

You sympathize with him. You don't want to see Quinn hurting anymore either. You feel like Mike knows more about it than you do because he has been there longer. It's so weird that you all lived in the same city and never knew it.

You feel a hand on your arm and look to your side to see it belongs to Brittany's. She reached around Emily to touch you and maybe comfort you a little. It's working, but not as much as you'd like it too. You feel like you should go after them, but you also feel like they need some space.

So you just leave them to sort their stuff out and turn this dinner back to who it was supposed to be about. "Hey, Em," you smile down at her, "You did so good tonight."

That starts the whole table on how she great she did.

When Rachel and Quinn return they're both all smile - fake smiles. They continue to hold hands, but they don't talk much to each other.

After dinner, Rachel pays just like she promised and you all head outside.

"I have to go to work early tomorrow so I'm going to head home," Mike kneels down to Emily's level and she hugs him, "I'll see you later okay? We have to dance together soon." Emily giggles and steps away.

Mike says goodbye to everyone else and confirms a lunchtime jog with Quinn before walking off down the street. Then Quinn squats down in front of Emily, playfully poking her stomach with each word she says, "Guess who is coming over to my house this tomorrow."

Emily's eyes light up and she squeals Quinn's nieces' names in a pitch where you can't make them out. Quinn laughs and hugs Emily. "What do you say moms?" She looks up at you and Brittany, "Can Emily come over and play?"

You look at Brittany who shrugs, leaving it up to you. "Alright. We can bring her over after Abuelo and Mom leave."

Everyone says goodnight and you head home with your girls. You have plans to meet Abuelo and your mom in the morning for breakfast so you all dive straight into bed.

Of course you're awakened by your Abuelo at seven a.m., your only consolation being that he woke your mom up as well and drug her to your apartment. You leave them to wake up Emily while you crawl back into bed and slide your arms around Brittany. You kiss her neck and then her cheek and then her lips. "Britt-Britt," you whisper against the skin of her temple, "It's time to wake up and say goodbye to my mom and Abuelo and say hello to our normal life."

She giggles and rolls into you, burrowing into your chest, "Do I have time to take a shower?"

"I think I can stall them for ten minutes," you reach up and mess up her hair. Then you bound off of the bed as she dives after you to retaliate. You laugh and skid to a halt in the living room where Abuelo is looking out your living room window.

"Do you want me to start some coffee?" you ask him as you readjust your sleeping shorts from your hasty escape.

He opens his arms to you and you know to walk over to him. He wraps you up in a bear hug as you both look out the windows. "I'm proud of you Santana. This is a good life mija."

You smile against his chest and breathe in the cologne that you've known your whole life. "Thanks Abuelo."

"You're happy," he states.

You nod. "I am." You know it wasn't a question, but you are and you like to say it.

"I'm glad," he squeezes you. "That makes me happy." He pauses, taking a moment. "And Brittany? You love her? Really love her?"

"I do," you say without hesitation, "I always have."

"Good because she's a good mother," he says softly, "And she's good to you."

"She's more than good to me," you tell him. You pull away and look at him. He's smiling lovingly at you. "What about you? Are you happy?"

He chuckles, "I'm having the time of my life, but you know Lima is a little stifling for a young man like me. I was driving up here and saw some lovely places in New Jersey and Pennsylvania and Connecticut."

"You're moving closer?" you ask, surprised, but definitely pleased.

"I can't miss my great grand daughter growing up," he smiles down at you.

You hug him again this time you squeeze him. "Te amo Abuelo."

"Te amo mija," he kisses you on top of your head.

You look down when you feel two little arms wrap around your legs. Emily is sleepily leaning on you, already dressed for the day. You smile and dip down to pick her up. She immediately rests her head on your shoulder.

"Sleepy girl wasn't ready to wake up?" you ask her.

She doesn't even open her eyes to nod. You drop a kiss on her head and make your way to the kitchen with her. You start making coffee with one arm holding her up, but when your mom sees it, she rushes over to you to finish.

"Hey baby girl," you hear Brittany coo from behind you and see her hand reach around to play with Emily's hair. Then you feel her other hand on your back sliding to your side. Her arms slide around both you and Emily, her face dropping to your shoulder, her lips littering kisses where they land.

Emily wakes up enough to let go of your neck and reach for her mom. Brittany easily lifts the girl out of your arms, but grabs onto the waistband of your shorts as you start to walk off. She pulls you back to her and holds you against her. You rest one hand on Emily's back and the other on Brittany's back, letting your head rest on Brittany's shoulder. These are your girls. To love and to protect. And you'll do it for the rest of your life.

"Are you ready to go?" Brittany asks. You're not sure if she's talking to you or Emily. Emily nods for both of you anyway.

You kiss them both on the cheek . "I'll go get dressed."

Breakfast is a nice family meal. You all talk about Abuelo's plans to move and your mother's wish to see Emily more often. You talk about Brittany's plans for the future and your contentment with right now. When you look at Brittany, your chest swells with all the love that's always been there. When you look at Emily you're more proud than you've ever been.

Saying goodbye to your mom is harder than it's ever been. You feel like you've really connected with her for the first time ever. She cries as she hugs you, Emily and Brittany. Abuelo has that sad, happy look on his face and promises to call you when he finds some place to live.

Once they leave, you call Quinn to see when she wants Emily at her house. She tells you that she'll meet you in the park. You and Brittany walk with Emily to the park and start walking along the sidewalk under the trees wondering where Quinn is.

"Is that them?" Brittany asks, pointing across the park.

It sure looks like Quinn and Rachel, but they're kissing in public. Quinn is holding onto Rachel's coat, not like she's forcing the kiss, but like she just wants something to hold. Rachel is smiling into the kiss, her hands buried in the blonde locks.

Emily sees them and take off running, squealing, "Quinn!"

Quinn and Rachel both pull away from the kiss and look to see the streak of a little girl barreling toward them. She almost tackles Quinn to the ground, the only thing holding her up is Rachel.

You and Brittany walk up to them and receive warm greetings. "Where are your nieces?" You ask.

"They'll be here any second," Quinn scans the horizon and swings Emily's hand that she's holding between them.

"You two were totally making out in public," Brittany grins, her bright eyes bouncing between the two.

"Yeah well," Quinn looks in her purse and pulls out her phone. She taps around a few times and hands it to you. Brittany's chin rests on your shoulder as you read.

_Broadway starlet Rachel Berry says "I'm in love." In a late night walk through Tribeca, Ms. Berry was seen holding hands and kissing a blonde woman. Berry herself introduced the woman, Quinn Fabray, to our cameraman and announced that she's in love. _

The site goes on to provide pictures and more details. You look up at them and see Quinn smiling again. It's a completely unhindered smile. There is no holding back.

"I wanted to thank you Santana," Rachel steps up to you and folds her hands in front of herself. "I like to think that eventually I would have caught on. However, I'm glad that you showed me the light sooner so that no one will be lonely like that ever again." She glances behind her, taking Quinn's free hand and kissing the back of her hand. She turns back to you, "I'm going to hug you now."

You laugh and accept her hug.

After some more regaling of the previous night's events Quinn and Rachel shoo you off. You call back that they need to keep the affection PG in front of your kid. Rachel laughs and Quinn smiles lovinly at her.

"Ugh," you grunt as you fall back into your bed. You're exhausted.

"I was hoping that I would be able to take you out on a date," Brittany says. She's standing right next to the bed and you can tell by the tone of her voice that she's pouting.

You reach toward her and hook a finger through the beltloop of her skinny jeans. You pull her onto the bed and wrap your arms around her so that she can't get away. "Nap first. Date second."

Brittany seems to have a different idea. She rolls to her side and starts softly kissing your neck, placing air light kisses up and down both sides. "But I wanna do something else." She nips at your earlobe and finally finds you lips.

"Mmm, Britt," escapes your mouth when you meant to tell her that you're really tired. Instead you pull on her shirt, gathing the bottom of it in your hand and pulling up. She shirt easily slides off of her and you're rewarded with hot, smooth skin under your fingers.

She moves one of her legs over you and sits back on her knees. You can't help, but run your nails lightly over her stomach. She smiles down at you. A smile of complete love and adoration. You feel drawn to her so you sit up and kiss her. You pour yourself into the kiss, like she doesn't already have all of you.

She tugs at your shirt and pulls it toward your head. She hooks her fingers under your bra and pulls up, taking it off with your shirt. She flings your clothes across the room and her hands immediately take the place of your bra, softly massaging your breasts. When she runs her thumbs over erect nipples, you moan into her neck. You work on getting her bra off so you can return the favor.

Once her bra is off, you kiss around her breast, distracting her enough so that you can flip your positions. Her head falls back onto the bed, barely missing the pillows and her back arches into you. Her jeans are the next to go, but you have to get off of the bed to pull the skinny jeans off from around her ankles. You're both laughing as you finally yank them off. "I'm burning these."

You wriggle out of your pants and crawl back onto the bed with her. You hover over her, softly kissing her lips, just content to kiss her for the rest of your life. But once again you change positions, this time from a particularly deft push and pull from her.

You feel her peeling off your underwear and her fingers slowly entering you. Stars burst before your eyes, all outlining her face as she makes you feel things only she can.

You lose all track of time as you're both laying in the bed. The fitted sheet has come off on three of the corners and all the pillows and blankets fell off the bed.

"Nap now?" Brittany murmurs sweetly before kissing your forehead then your cheek.

You smile at her and capture her lips, "Actually, I was thinking date now."

She grins back at you, "Really?"

You nod. "But I think we need to k we should take a shower."

She holds your eyes for a moment, playfully searching your face before you both start laughing and take off. She's faster than you bounding off of the bed, but you cut her off on the way out the door. You cut into the bathroom and try to close the door, but her hand stops you. You weakly try to push the door closed, but she's stronger and probably trying harder so the door comes open and you bounce back toward the sink to avoid getting hit.

She quirks an eyebrow and walks over to your preditorily. "You were trying to lock me out." She moves to close to you, you're pressed to the sink. The cold counter on her bare ass is cold and makes you shiver. Then she presses her body against yours, so that you're pinned.

She bends her knees and kisses the underside of your jaw. It's so hot that you don't notice her grabbing onto the back of your knees and pushing you onto the counter. You're sitting next to the sink, your back presses to the mirror when she attacks your mouth with hers. "Oh my god, Brittany."

After about thirty more minutes you actually get into the shower where you barely rinse off before you've pinned her to the shower wall. When she comes the last time in the shower, her head falls onto your shoulder as she catches her breath. You smile and kiss the side of her head, "I love you Brittany."

"I love you too San," she wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug under the rapidly cooling stream of water. You both just stand there, holding each other until the water gets too cold.

You have a problem getting her dressed because she's laying on the bed, naked and protesting. You laugh at her and throw some of her clothes onto her head, "You're the one that wanted to go on a date. So let's go."

Reluectantly she puts her clothes on and when you leave your apartment she doesn't break physical contact from you. She stops you on the street corner just to kiss you and hugs you to her when you wait for the crosswalk sign to change. When you get to the restaurant, she sits next to you in the booth and holds your hand under the table. You share french fries and milkshakes.

"I love you," she says between bites and kisses your cheek.

You can't help, but smile. She's so sweet and so adorable. She's so loving and she's you're everything. "I love you too."

After your date, you go for a walk before Quinn drops Emily off. She's exhausted and goes right to sleep, having been worn out by her little friends. You walk into the bedroom after making sure Emily's nightlight is on to find Brittany laying on the unmade bed, fully clothed and asleep. You pick up a pillow and grab one of the blankets that is laying across the floor by the foot of the bed. You toss the pillow onto the bed next to Brittany's head and put the blanket over her. You change into some more comfortable clothes and crawl into the bed with her. Your head rests on the far side of the pillow from her and you tug on her jacket before she moves her head onto the pillow in her sleep. You both fall asleep on half of the bed with the sheets falling off, sharing one pillow.

You wake up before Brittany does, but when you check on Emily she's already playing with her toys in her room. She smiles when she sees you and gets up to hug you.

"Do you want to help me make breakfast for mom?" you ask her.

She eagerly nods and pulls you into the kitchen faster than you would have walked. You start some coffee and run your hand through you hair. "Alright, what should we make?"

Emily pushes a chair from the table over to the kitchen. "Pancakes with blueberries." She climbs up on the chair and looks over at the kitchen.

"You're too close to the stove," you tell her, as you move to check if you even have blueberries which you find that you do. You get them out as well as the stuff to make pancakes. Emily moves her chair away from the stove and even gets down a coffee cup for you. You hug her to you and kiss the top of her head. "Alright, ready?"

Emily makes a mess of stirring, but she doesn't want any help so you just watch and sip your coffee. She's so adorable. She even has some of Brittany's mannerism. Like the way her eyebrow wrinkles in concentration.

You handle the stove part and soon all the pancakes are done. You give Emily everything she needs to set the table and you carry the food to the table. You're pouring Brittany some coffee just as she walks out of the hallway to the bedrooms. She has changed into lounge clothes and kisses Emily's head before making her way over to you.

"Good morning sleepyhead," you chuckle after she drapes herself over your shoulders, onto your back. She kisses you neck and mumbles a good morning. "Do you feel okay?" you have to ask because she's usually a ball of sunshine the second her eyes open.

"'m sore," she answers, breaking a smile.

You laugh because you are sore as well. You hand her, her coffee over your shoulder and she takes a sip.

"Let's eat!" Emily calls from the table. She has a butter knife and a fork in her hand, ready to start.

You and Brittany giggle together and make your way to the table. Brittany pulls out your chair for you and you kiss her in a thank you.

Emily rattles on about what she did yesterday with Quinn, Rachel and Quinn's nieces. You can't help, but smile at her enthusiasm. Brittany smiles over at you, sharing your adoration for the little girl across the table.

This morning is absolutely perfect. Your life now is amazing. You love your girls and you can feel that they love you back. Brittany knows you're thinking by the look on her face and she leans over and kisses you, the taste of blueberries lingering on your mouth.

Yeah, your life had gotten really fantastic and it all started with a knock on your door.

* * *

><p>The End<p> 


End file.
